proved the insulation to be perfect. The days wore away without mishap
until the evening of July 17, when the sound of the gong filled all
hearts with a sickening fear.

The rain was falling in torrents and pattering on the heavy oil-skin
clothing of the watchers. The wind blew in chilly gusts, and the sea
broke in white crests of foam. A dense and pitchy cloud issued from the
smoke-stacks. The vessel advanced in utter darkness. A few lights were
moving about, and shadows fell hither and thither as one of the hands
carried a lantern along the sloppy deck. The testing-room was occupied
by an electrician, who was quietly working with his magical instrument,
and the cable could be heard winding over the wheels astern, as the
tinkling of a little bell on the "drum" recorded its progress.

[Illustration: THE "GREAT EASTERN" ENTERING THE BAY OF HEART'S CONTENT.]

The electrician rose from his seat suddenly, and struck the alarum. The
next instant each person on board knew that an accident had happened.
The engines were stopped and reversed within two minutes. Blue-lights
were burned on the paddle-boxes, and showed a knot in the cable as it
lay in the trough.

Two remedies seemed possible. One was to cut the cable, and support one
end in the water by a buoy until the rest could be unraveled. The other
was to unravel the cable without cutting it.

[Illustration]

It is a very intricate knot that an old sailor cannot untie, and the
old sailors on the "Great Eastern" twisted and untwisted coil after