Disorientated by the steamer"s wake, Watters could not tell in which direction the surface lay until his head emerged. He spat out seawater, gasping as he kicked to keep afloat. The lights of the paddle steamer gleamed two cables-lengths to his right, fading slowly even as he watched. The blackguards aren"t even going to search for me.
The blackguards aren"t even going to search for me.He had no idea how far the coast was, but the steamer had been travelling south, so if he swum at right angles to her starboard side, he should hit the coast of the United Kingdom sometime. Or drown, more likely, for Commander Pierce was taking care to be well outside the three-mile limit. Watters knew he could either swim or give up, and the latter was not an option. Spitting out another mouthful of the Ge
