put, as best he might, round his own waist; and then, for the first time,
still clinging close to his companion's arm, and buffeted about wildly by
that running sea, he was able to look about him in alarm for a moment,
and realize more or less what had actually happened.

By this time the Australasian was a quarter of a mile away in front of
them, and her lights were beginning to become stationary as she slowly
slowed and reversed engines. Then, from the summit of a great wave, Felix
was dimly aware of a boat being lowered--for he saw a separate light
gleaming across the sea--a search was being made in the black night,
alas, how hopelessly! The light hovered about for many, many minutes,
revealed to him now here, now there, searching in vain to find him, as
wave after wave raised him time and again on its irresistible summit. The
men in the boat were doing their best, no doubt; but what chance of
finding any one on a dark night like that, in an angry sea, and with no
clue to guide them toward the two struggling castaways? Current and wind
had things all their own way. As a matter of fact, the light never came
near the castaways at all; and after half an hour's ineffectual search,
which seemed to Felix a whole long lifetime, it returned slowly toward
the steamer from which it came--and left those two alone on the dark
Pacific.

"There wasn't a chance of picking 'em up," the captain said, with
philosophic calm, as the men clambered on board again, and the
Australasian got under way once more for the port of Honolulu. "I knew
there wasn't a chance; but in common humanity one was bound to make some
show of trying to save 'em. He was a brave fellow to go after her, though
it was no good of course. He couldn't even find her, at night, and with
such a sea as that running."