He paused for a minute outside the drinking room, listening to the chorus of a vulgar song. The door opened and a couple of men staggering out started for the part of the ship given over to the women. As they lurched past him Planchette heard a remark one of them made to the other. He turned and walked swiftly to the hold, and lighting a match, held it over the spot on the coal where nearly a barrel of oil had soaked in. Then he stole back to the upper deck, slipped the ship’s boat carefully over the side and dropped into the sea. He remained perfectly motionless, watching the great form of the “Lawless” as she steamed slowly past him. Taking up his oars he pulled along for a little way, and the distance between him and the ship did not increase greatly, for, as has been observed, speed of traveling was not one of the pleasures promised to the passengers of the “Lawless.” In a little while he saw a number of lights flash out on deck, and the black forms of many men hurrying to and fro were silhouetted against the sky. Then, suddenly, above the roar of the water he heard the piercing shriek of a woman. He shivered slightly and ceased rowing. The ship’s engines had stopped, and the boat was rolling heavily on the swell. Great clouds of black smoke began to pour from the hatchways, and across the water he heard the sound of men trying to get out the boats, an undertaking followed immediately by an angry cursing in which he heard his own name mingled. But he only smiled again, that same strange smile that had been on his face for the last week when as he worked down in the bowels of the ship, he heard the sounds of riot above. “They’ll be after the pumps now,” muttered the instrument of God to himself, and he laughed mirthlessly. He took up his oars and began rowing again. He knew it was many miles to the nearest land, but he must get away from that great flaming eye, which seemed to be winking at him. The cries and shrieks of despair from those on board the burning ship were awful to hear, so he sang loudly and drowned out the noise. He rowed furiously till nearly daybreak, when, sinking to the bottom of the boat, he slept from sheer exhaustion. When he opened his eyes again the sun was high in the heavens. He looked around him for some trace of his last night’s work, but only the great green expanse of water met his eye. There was not a speck on the waters. Of the eight hundred passengers who had set out a week before in pursuit of sin not one remained.