FREE OF THE YACHT The man was evidently dying.

West, from his experience on European battle-fields, felt assured the end was indeed close at hand.

His face under the flitting rays of the swinging light was ghastly and drawn, his words were barely audible, and painfully uttered, while, as the arm supporting his head was withdrawn, he sank back heavily into his former position, and his eyes instantly closed.

Only as West bent lower could he determine the surety of his breathing still.
There was nothing to be done for Masters; no occasion for lingering there helplessly.

The yacht was sinking under their feet, going down slowly, but surely, and the end could not be far off.