Then, like the wrath of God, the steamship overwhelmed them, its bows sliced through the schooner as a knife through cheese. …
When Alan came up he struck out at random. Aware of several dark objects dotting the surface not far away, he swam for the nearest: the head was a woman's, the face turned toward him the face of Rose.
He gasped wildly: "Keep cool! Don't struggle! Put one hand on my shoulder and"
What happened then was never quite clear: he knew only that he was forced to fight for his life—that the woman flung herself upon him like some maddened animal, clutching his throat, winding her limbs around his, dragging him down and down. …
Primitive instinct alone saved him. He remembered freeing an arm, drawing it back, delivering a blow with all his strength, and that he was then free and struggling back to the air.
Then a boat-hook caught and dragged him some distance, until two strong hands caught him beneath the armpits and held his head above water. He looked up witlessly into the face of Barcus, and still bewildered, struggled feebly. But the other's voice brought him back to his senses: "Easy, old top! Take it easy! You're all right now—rest a minute, then help me get you aboard."
He obeyed, and presently, with considerable as-
