It was at this moment that the searchlight switched suddenly off. Darkness
shut down around them, leaving nothing in sight but the overturned boat, a
dim bulk among the dull ripples.
Roy was almost done as the result of the exertions he had made in holding
up Gill, and Gill himself weighted them terribly. For two minutes or more
Ken thought they would never reach the boat.
At last they managed it, and then they had only just strength enough left
to haul Gill up across it and, each with an arm across the keel, cling and
let themselves drift where the current took them.
'The skipper said it was out of the frying pan into the fire,' said Roy,
with a weak attempt at a laugh. 'He wasn't far out, eh, Ken?'
'He wasn't,' Ken agreed. 'I say, Roy, he had pluck, hadn't he? It took
grit to stand by the "Swan" under a fire like that.'
'It did,' said Roy. 'God rest his soul,' he added softly.
Silence fell between them. Ken's spirits were sinking in spite of his best
efforts to keep them up.
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