"You are a splendid inspiration, Mr. Darrin!" declared the Englishman, heartily. "I wish I could believe that you are a true prophet, as well." "Oh, well," spoke Dave, with a lightness that was deceptive, "I've really been in several worse scrapes than the present one." But to himself he added: "May I be forgiven for uttering what seems to me to be a possibly helpful lie!" Though they were now safely afloat for some time to come, their situation rapidly became worse, owing to the increasing cold. Especially was this noticeable in the case of the Englishwoman. From time to time her eyes closed. When spoken to she had to exert considerable effort to shake off her languor before she could reply. She became still more drowsy; evidently she was on the verge of freezing to death. From speaking kindly her husband dropped into sharp tones for the sole purpose of keeping her awake. Presently he was forced to resort to light blows in order to bully her into wakefulness. Once she fell soundly asleep she would not again awake. As for Captain Kennor, he held on almost dumbly. He seldom spoke, his eyes mournfully regarding the woman whose battle for life was slowly being lost. "This is awful!" cried the Englishman, hoarsely, after another effort to rouse his wife from slumber. "For all of us," Darrin admitted, "though there is still hope." "Where?" inquired Captain Kennor. "I do not know," Dave confessed. "Yes, I do, too, though! Look yonder! No, in that direction!" At first the others could not make it out. Captain Kennor was the first to see what Dave had found. It was only a low, dark cloud on the horizon, and it looked as though smaller clouds detached themselves and sailed away on the low-hanging sky. "I see it, too!" cried the Englishman, at last. "But what is it?" "A ship," Dave answered. "To be more exact, it looks like a destroyer, and it looks too as though it might pass within a quarter of a mile of us." "Look, my dear--look!" the Englishman urged his wife, shaking her in his eagerness to have her realize the thread of hope that dangled before their eyes. "A ship coming! We are to be saved." Her eyes opened at last; the woman struggled bravely to show interest in the sight that half-cheered the others, but she could not. She was too far gone, and her eyes closed again. "Keep your wife awake, sir, if you have to begin to pull her hair from her head!!" It was a command. "See how near that craft is getting. Jove, sir! I believe it is one of our own Yankee ships!" "But they will not come close enough to see us," objected Captain Kennor, with the practiced eyes of the veteran seaman. "They are not using their searchlight, and we have no way of signalling to them." Without speaking Darrin tried a desperate hope. In one of his hands something gleamed out into the night. "What is it?" demanded the Dane. "Himmel! Der flashlight! Vere or ven did you by dat come?"