Urged by the shrill cries of the serang and tindal of the watch the lascars had now formed up on the boat-deck. Some had then their places in the out-swung boat, while others stood by the falls ready to lower away. Although the engines had been going full speed astern the _West Barbican_ was still forging ahead when Peter jumped into the stern-sheets of the lifeboat. She was still carrying way when the falls were disengaged and the boat pushed off from the ship's side. "Soft job this," soliloquized Mostyn. "The sea's calm, the water's warm, and old Preston and the other fellow have got hold of the lifebuoy. Tumbling into the ditch under these conditions is a picnic--Hello, though--is it?" * * * * * To say the least of it, Preston was both surprised and indignant when he found himself hurtling through space in the vice-like grip of his antagonist. It was poor consolation to know that there was someone else in the same predicament. What was particularly galling was the fact that he, a veteran officer of the Mercantile Marine, should be such an ass as to skylark and then fall overboard in so doing. These thoughts flashed through his mind during the time he dropped through thirty odd feet of space between the deck of the ship and the surface of the water. Then the terrific impact with the Atlantic Ocean abruptly ended his reveries of self-reproach. To a certain extent it was fortunate that the two men remained interlocked during their fall. Hunched up after the manner of a diver doing a "honey-pot" from a spring-board they got off comparatively lightly, although the impact was fairly severe, and had the effect of depriving them of most of the scanty breath left after their strenuous encounter. "The blighter will grip like grim death," thought Preston, as he sank fathoms down; "I'll have a deuce of a job to shake him off." But the sudden immersion had the unexpected result that the men mutually released their grip. Perhaps it was that both were good swimmers and realized that the quickest way to refill their lungs with air was to strike out for the surface. They emerged almost simultaneously, gasping and spluttering. "Not that way!" exclaimed Preston breathlessly, as his companion in misfortune began striking out for the ship's side. "Mind the prop." The other realized the danger of being caught by the swiftly moving blades of the screw, but even then it was only the prompt action of the _secuni_ at the wheel that saved him from being drawn into the vortex. "Nothing to worry about," spluttered Preston, as the two bobbed like corks in the quartering wave. "We'll be picked up all right. My aunt! Look at them! Well, they might have chucked them on our heads." He referred to the injudicious volley of lifebuoys. Although the ship was carrying way the passengers were still engaged in dumping the Company's property into the sea.