Before anyone could utter a warning or check the impetuous movement of the two wrestlers, Preston was forced to the edge of the temporary dais, which was on a level with the wire guard-rails. Probably his antagonist was blinded by the perspiration running into his eyes, because he failed to see the danger resulting from his headlong rush. Locked in each other's arms the two men disappeared over the side of the ship. [Illustration: THE TWO MEN DISAPPEARED OVER THE SIDE OF THE SHIP] CHAPTER XIV Mostyn to the Rescue For a brief instant the danger and suddenness of the catastrophe were hardly realized. Assembled for a pageant the passengers were horrified into silence by the unexpected turn of events. Then a woman shrieked, and the spell was broken. Almost every one of the occupants of the deck-chairs stood up and rushed to the side, shouting as if noise would help the two men struggling for their lives. The lascars too seemed incapable of action. They flocked to the side of the ship, and gazed seemingly without emotion into the deep-blue water. At the shout of "Man overboard!" raised by Anstey, the officer of the watch, Captain Bullock unceremoniously dashed between the groups of bewildered passengers and gained the bridge. Even in his haste his brain was solving a ready problem. Who was to go away in the lifeboat? The Acting Chief was struggling for dear life in the "ditch". He could swim well, as the Old Man knew, but after his strenuous wrestling bout had he sufficient strength to keep afloat until picked up? Anstey, as officer on duty, could not leave the bridge. There was one executive officer short of the ship's complement, and as far as Captain Bullock was aware, none of the engineers off duty was capable of managing a boat, while a bungler at the tiller meant not only delay but probably failure. Fortunately the _secuni_ in the wheelhouse had acted promptly, putting the helm over to port in order to swing the ship's stern clear of the men in the ditch, and thus avoid the danger of their being cut to pieces by the propeller. They were now a good four hundred yards astern, while between them and the ship was a line of lifebuoys thrown with fine indiscrimination by the passengers. The nearest lifebuoy to the two exhausted men was at least a hundred yards away. During the interrupted revels the _West Barbican_ had reduced speed, and already Anstey had rung down for "Stop". "Let go the lifeboat--away lifeboat's crew," bawled the Old Man, as he moved the telegraph indicator to full speed astern; then, leaning over the bridge rails, he hailed a grotesquely garbed figure standing motionless and alert on the temporary dais: "Mr. Mostyn: take charge of the lifeboat." With a feeling of elation Peter rushed to carry out the order. This time there was no question of it. The Old Man had spoken. It was a tribute to the Wireless Officer's capabilities in a province that was not strictly his own.