The din of a siren above them filled the world with hideous clamour as
Saltash recovered himself. "Damn them!" he ejaculated savagely. "Do they
want to deafen us as well as send us to perdition?"

Then very suddenly it stopped, leaving a void that was instantly filled
with lesser sounds. There arose a confusion of voices, of running feet, a
hubbub of escaping steam, and a great rush of water.

Saltash dragged himself up in the darkness, sought to drag Toby also,
found him a dead weight, stooped and lifted him with wiry strength.
He trod among broken glass and plates as he straightened himself. The
noise above them was increasing. He flung the limp form over his shoulder
and began desperately to claw his way up a steep slant towards the
saloon-door and the companion-way. Sound and instinct guided him, for the
darkness was complete. But he was not the man to die like a trapped
animal while the most slender way of escape remained. Hampered as he was,
he made for the open with set teeth and terrible foreign oaths of which
he was utterly unconscious.

Whether that fierce struggle for freedom could ever have ended in success
single-handed, however, was a point which he was not destined to decide,
for after a space of desperate effort which no time could measure, there
suddenly shone the gleam of an electric torch in front of him, and he saw
the opening but a few feet away.

"Saltash!" cried a voice, piercing the outer din, "Saltash!"

"Here!" yelled back Saltash, still fighting for foothold and finding it
against the leg of the table, "That you, Larpent? How long have we got?"