fact was self-evident, and that was that if we did get through we should be saved.
"I am for chancing it," I said, after I had given the matter proper consideration.
"Then we will follow your advice," said Alia. "We will try the passage."
"Very good," Patterson answered quietly, and, having rolled up the chart, returned to the bridge.
After that for nearly half-an-hour we raced on at full speed, the warships coming after us as fast as their steaming capabilities would permit.
Then our pace began somewhat to abate, and looking ahead I could distinguish in the gathering dusk what looked like an unbroken line of breakers stretching away for miles to port and starboard, from far out in the open sea almost to the ragged coast line on our left. Our course had long since been altered and now we were steering directly for the troubled water. The pace was still terrific, but we were slowing down perceptibly.
"We are close to the opening now," said Alie, leading the way up onto the bridge. "If we make a mistake and touch, we shall go to pieces in five minutes. Let us therefore keep together, husband mine."
We stood to windward of the binnacle and watched what was about to happen. The breakers were scarcely half a mile ahead, the warships perhaps six miles astern.
Then two men crawled into the chains and set the leads going—the second officer was sent forrard to reconnoitre and Patterson, dismissing the steersman, took the wheel himself. The third officer was stationed at the telegraph.
Suddenly Patterson drew himself up, spun the spokes
