“Then the navigational lights flickered and went on again. Their faint glow coming through the portholes showed him that he was lying full length on the cabin floor, which was now tilted at a sharp angle. In the brief but violent process of being hurled from his bunk his head had come into collision with the beam above it, and now ached intolerably. Putting a hand to it he tried to concentrate and realised that the launch must have piled up on something. His next thought was of Gloria, and he sh...outed her name. There was no reply. He staggered to his feet and slithered down the sloping floor to her bunk. It was empty; and her clothes had gone from the next bunk on which she had laid them. With a sudden fear that the launch might be holed and in danger of sinking, he grabbed his dressing-gown and pulled it on as he stumbled up the short companionway. He saw at once what had happened. The starlight was quite sufficient to show that the launch had piled up on one of the rafts. But how, in God’s name, had it managed to do that, Philip asked himself?MoreLessRead More Read Less
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