“Quick,” he cried.  “You knew this yacht; what small boats did she carry?”

“Only the one; the other was so warped it had been taken ashore.”

“Only one!  Those fellows put off in that.  There was nothing else to save life aboard?”

“There are life-belts here; see, hung to the front of the cabin.  Was that what you meant?”

“Yes, and no.”  He snatched one from the hook, and hastily strapped it about her.  “These may help, but we shall need more.  Was there no life-raft?  My God! there must surely be something of that kind.”

“Yes, there is; I remember now.  It is forward there, near the engine-room hatch.  Percival Coolidge explained to me how it worked once.  But—­but I don’t believe just the two of us could ever launch it over the rail.”

“We will, because we must—­it is our only hope.  I’ll take the other belt; now come.  We haven’t an instant to waste—­the water is even now almost level with the deck; any second we may be awash, and go down like a stone.  Hold on tight to me.”

The deck was already sloping to port in a dangerous degree, and West was compelled to cling to the rail, as they slowly made passage forward through the darkness.  Their eyes had by then adapted themselves to the night, so as to distinguish larger objects, and, as there was no litter to encounter, as in the case of a ship wrecked by storm, the two progressed safely as far as the engine-hatch.  Neither spoke, but West still clasped the hatchet, peering anxiously about for some signs of the life-raft.  He located it at last, securely fastened to the side of the deck house, and, leaving the girl to hold herself upright as best she could, began to hack it loose.  It was quite an affair, cork-lined, and evidently capable of sustaining considerable weight when once launched in the water, but cumbersome and hard to handle on deck, more particularly because of its awkward form.

Fortunately it hung to the port side with a rather steep slant to the rail, which was not high.  The waters of the lake, threatening to engulf them with every sodden roll of the vessel, were almost within reach of an outstretched hand, while occasionally a wave danced along the bulwark, and scattered its spray over the deck.  West, working with feverish impatience, realized suddenly that his companion had deserted the place where he had left her and was also tugging and slashing at the lashings of the raft.  These finally yielded to their blind attack.  Without the exchange of a word the two grasped the sides and shoved the thing hard down against the port rail.

“Wait now,” he cried exultantly.  “Stay behind, and brace yourself against the hatch-cover.  I’ll get underneath and lift.  Once on the rail the two of us must shove it free overboard.  Here, keep a grip on this line, so the raft can’t float away.”