This is no time for sentiment!" "But--" "My order, sir!" Five minutes later, cases, boxes, bales, water-tanks, began spinning from open ports and down through the trap-door in the lower gallery.
Then followed the seared corpse of Auchincloss, a good man who had died in harness, fighting to the end.

Those to whom the duty was assigned of giving his metal-weighted body sea burial turned away their eyes, so that they might not see that final plunge.

But the sound of the body striking the waves rocketed up to them with sickening distinctness.
Lightened a little, _Nissr_ seemed to rally for a few minutes.

The altimeter needle ceased its drop, trembled and even rose _.275_ degrees.
"God! If we only had an ounce more power!" burst out the major, his mouth mumbling the loose ends of that flamboyant mustache.

The Master remained quite impassive, and made no answer.