He felt so utterly exhausted that he thought he must give up, must drift off into quiet sleep and put an end to such hopeless effort. To rouse himself he began counting the stars overhead, the navigation stars whose names Captain Saulsby had taught him. There was Polaris, and there was Vega nearly overhead, and Altair, and there was Arcturus dipping toward the western horizon. While he watched, the orange gold of Arcturus was obscured by the rising clouds, then Altair was blotted out, now Vega, now the North Star and the shining Dipper. The boat began to plunge and roll, she could not last much longer now. He was too weary to care much whether she did or not.
He, too, must have fallen into unconsciousness for there was certainly an interval of which he knew nothing. Then a cold dash of water slapped in his face and roused him. He saw, almost above him, a black silhouette against the grey sky, the outline of a torpedo-boat making directly for them.
He felt only a lukewarm interest in the sudden vision, and wondered vaguely,
“Do they see us, or are they going to run us down?”
