"Good news!" Margaret cried. "Good news!"
McNeal raised his glasses to his eyes and put them down. "What do you make of that?" he complained.
The four figures which had been advancing separated and abreast now joined in twos and walked together; but again they spread out separately.
"Good news and bad, they must mean." The girl trembled. "They bring both."
There was no doubt about it. Once again, in the same way, the four men on the shore signalled. They came on more rapidly and now reached their boat left on the beach. They launched it and slowly and cautiously brought it out between the lumps of ice now rising and falling uglily with the sea swell.
The four on the deck of the Viborg—Linn had joined the others—stood silent, watching the boat draw nearer, with the oarsmen turning at times to see if they were near enough to shout. Margaret made out that her brother and Latham were rowing the bow oars. Geoff, ceasing to row, swung about and shouted
