A new swing of our crazed leviathan disclosed the reason for this wavering, victorious cry. There were two more blobs of smoke on the horizon, and from different points on the Irish coast three huge birds were flying like messengers from some god. Moreover, the blob of smoke we had first seen now had a considerable stretch of the ocean behind her, and in front a parting of the spray like two white plumes as she tore in our direction. “She sure is some little ripper!” came a dry Yankee voice in the group about life-boat No. 5. “Thirty-five knots if it’s one.” “Them ’planes’ll overtake her, though, and be on the spot as soon as she is.” “Gosh! I’d like to see Fritzie then!” “J’ever see a kingfisher sweep down on a gudgeon?” “Gee-whiz! Look at Fritzie! Goin’ to submerge!” And sure enough, as we stared, the blue-gray streak began to sink behind the waves, becoming to the imagination even more a giant deep-sea reptile after it had gone. Almost simultaneously our leviathan calmed down, resuming her straight course. It was done apparently with the wordless, unexplained inconsequence with which a runaway horse will suddenly fall into a peaceful trot. There was no stopping to salute the destroyers and ’planes that were hastening to our help or to exchange confidences with them as to our common enemy. There was neither hail nor farewell as we forged again toward the open sea. Danger being considered past, the groups broke up, intermingling with sighs of relief. The Consolatrice and her friend came to exchange a few words with us, and Miss Prynne returned from the boat to which she had good-naturedly exchanged. While I thanked her for this kindness, as if it had been done for myself, I saw Miss Barry trying to slip off. By stepping out of my corner and assuming a limp lamer than my actual disability warranted I was able to intercept her. “I wonder,” I made bold to ask, “if you could give me a hand back to the music-room?” The yashmak was not so impervious but that I could detect behind it the scarlet glimmer of her smile. “Oh, I think you could get there by yourself. Try.” “I can manage the deck,” I said, in the tones of a boy feigning an indisposition to stay away from school, “but I’m afraid of the steps of the companionway.” “How would you have managed if I hadn’t been here?” she asked, as she allowed me to lean ever so lightly on her arm. The steps of the companionway presenting a more real difficulty than I had expected, I could say nothing till with her aid I had lowered myself safely down. Postponing the pleasure of thanking her, I reverted to the topic the last attack had interrupted. “I want to hear about your reorientation. You were able to put the streets in their proper place again, and to see New York as it was; but in my case—” She put out her hand with that air which there is no gainsaying.