The boat was small, and without difficulty it was dragged down to the edge of the surf with Vera seated in the stern. The three men pushed the craft out through the surf. Then they sprang in, and Sandoff and the sailor fell to the oars, Vera and her brother meanwhile bailing out the water that had been flung over the sides. “Pull with all your strength, my friend,” said Sandoff. “It will be no easy matter to gain the yacht.” The wind was blowing toward the shore. Each moment it seemed to increase in violence, and the sea to grow more turbulent. After a period of steady rowing Sandoff noted with alarm that the boat was being carried in the direction of the Russian corvette. Again and again it was headed for the crimson wake of the lantern, and each time the waves buffeted it persistently out of its course. Shamarin relieved Sandoff at the oar, but with no better result. The situation was becoming alarming. The sky was overcast with dark, murky clouds, and the waves tossed the frail craft about at will. Suddenly a ruddy blaze was seen on the beach. Then a rocket with a luminous blue wake whizzed high in the air, and before the fugitives could recover from their surprise a similar signal was sent up from the deck of the corvette. “We have been tracked to the shore,” cried Sandoff. “The Cossacks must have come up from Vladivostok, and now they are signaling to the corvette either to be on the lookout or to send a boat in.” “Most likely the latter,” said Shamarin. “Look! Lights are moving on deck, and I can hear the rattling of chains.” The possibility of recapture when safety was so near at hand dismayed the fugitives. The boat was in a dangerous position, being directly between the corvette and the shore. “We may be saved yet,” cried Sandoff hoarsely. “Pull straight for the yacht—pull as you never pulled in your lives. It is our last chance.” The men tugged desperately at the oars, and to such purpose that the boat made visible headway toward the Grenelle. A shout for help might have brought another boat to the rescue, but as it could have been heard with equal distinctness on board the corvette this expedient was out of the question. Another mishap was close at hand. As the sailor pulled desperately at his oar, it split with a sharp crack. In the momentary confusion that followed, the boat swung broadside to the waves, and a fierce blast of wind coming up at that instant, over it went in the twinkling of an eye. Sandoff, being on the leeward side, shot out and downward, going clear under the icy water and coming to the surface a few seconds later, to find the capsized boat half a dozen feet from him. To the bow clung Shamarin, submerged to the breast, while the sailor had managed to crawl upon the stern. Vera was not to be seen, and as Sandoff made this terrible discovery his heart seemed to stand still and his chilled limbs to lose their power. “Victor! Victor! Help me!”