Of course it took a long time to explain this with the primitive means at the command of those who had so unexpectedly got into communication. It was a matter of vast joy to Jack, though, to know that his father was uninjured and in good spirits, although, so Mr. Chadwick had tapped out, those on the other side of the partition were as much in doubt as to their ultimate fate as were the boys themselves.
By the time it was deemed prudent to cease communication for the time being, there was an angry sea running outside. Once a big green wave climbed the yacht’s side and swept in a torrent into the boys’ cabin. They had to close the port-hole and this made the tiny place almost insufferably stuffy. The motion, too, of the yacht as she plowed through the rising sea made Dick feel uncomfortably squeamish. Luckily, both Jack and Tom were good sailors and felt no inconvenience.
Night had fallen and the cabin was plunged in darkness, but nobody came near them. There was an electric globe in the cabin, but when Jack tried to turn it on he found that the current had been cut off. From outside the door they could hear the buzz of voices, but were not able to distinguish words. Presumably Medway and Hemming were in consultation. But even though the boys tried their utmost to hear something, hoping that it might shed some light on their ultimate destiny, the complaining of the laboring ship and the low tone in which the men’s voices were pitched, prevented any eavesdropping.
And so the hours wore on, the prisoners from time to time communicating by tapping in the Morse code. This, in itself, made the dreary, dark hours more endurable for the boys. As it grew later it was evident by the frantic pitching of the yacht that a tremendous sea must be running outside.
From time to time they could hear the rush of heavy feet on the deck overhead and thought they could catch the sound of hoarse shouts.
“Gracious!” exclaimed Tom, after an unusually heavy lurch had sent him staggering across the cabin, “there must be a whopper of a storm outside.”
“Yes, indeed,” agreed Jack, “she’s pitching like a bucking bronco. Wow! Feel that!”
The _Valkyrie_ appeared to climb heavenward, pause for a thrilling instant, and then rush down—down—down as if she would never stop.