Part 8 (1/2)

”I am certain I could get hold of him,” cried Digby, suddenly fastening the rope round his own waist in the way Toby had taught him. ”Here, do you hold the rope tight.”

”I ought to go,” said Marshall, throwing off his jacket.

”No, no--no time to be lost--now or never,” cried Digby, rus.h.i.+ng into the sea just as the wave, having brought the almost senseless lad close to the beach, was about to carry him off again.

Had he hesitated for a moment he would have been too late. He thought not of his own safety. On he rushed. The receding water took him off his legs. He struck out; he was turned heels over head. Still he dashed on. He was within half an arm's-length of the drowning lad.

”Oh, I must have him,” he thought to himself. He sprung on; he caught him by the collar of his jacket. ”Haul away,” he sung out.

Marshall and the rest saw that he had got hold of the boy, though they could not hear him speak.

Nothing but death would have made him relinquish that grasp, he felt.

His companions hauled away, and much force was required, for so strong was the reflux of the wave that all his own strength would not have opposed it.

Almost drowned himself, and scarcely sensible, holding tight on to the boy, he at length was caught hold of by his friends, who ran up with him and his burden out of the reach of the waves.

They undid the lad's collar and handkerchief. He was breathing, but insensible. He was as well dressed as they were, and was certainly not a poor sailor-boy, as Digby had fancied,--not that that would have made any difference, of course.

Easton ran off to call Mr Nugent, while Marshall, Power, and Norton attended to the stranger and Digby.

Meantime, they were anxiously looking out for the other person they had seen in the water. They could just distinguish him, but he had drifted a long way out, and was making no effort to save himself.

Digby very soon came to his senses, as did the boy he had so gallantly rescued. No sooner did the latter open his eyes than he looked up and exclaimed, ”Oh, my father, my father; where is he?” He gazed with a countenance expressive of the greatest fear towards the ocean. Then he started up, and would have rushed back into the water, had not Marshall and Digby prevented him.

In the mean time, some more fishermen and other persons had a.s.sembled at the scene of action. One of them was noted for being a first-rate swimmer. He was somewhat of a rival, too, of Toby's, though they were excellent friends. Fastening a rope round his waist, he plunged in and swam out boldly and strongly amid the foaming breakers towards the drowning man. When the rescued boy saw what he was doing, he was immediately calm, and kneeling down on the sand, with uplifted hands, regardless of the bystanders, was evidently praying. What mattered it to him what others thought; the life of a beloved parent was in the greatest extreme of danger. He saw clearly that no help which he could afford him or could obtain would be of any avail, and thus wisely and with right faith he sought it whence alone it could be given.

The other boys stood around. Marshall joined his prayers to those of the young stranger, that his father might be saved. Digby wished it, and would have done anything to a.s.sist the struggling man; but how to pray he knew not. It was a moment of awful suspense; he felt it so himself. How must that kneeling boy have felt it!

The brave fisherman--John Holmes was his name--swam on. He was joined by Toby, and at the same time the cask was floated out. It was let go at the light moment. The person struggling in the water saw it, and endeavoured to reach it. Twice he was washed away far off from it. No exclamation all the time was heard from the lips of his son. He gazed intently on what was going forward. Sometimes he appeared to be about to rise and rush towards the ocean; but he restrained himself, and continued kneeling. A shriek, it was one of joy, escaped him when he saw his father at length grasp hold of the cask.

The two brave fishermen now swam up near him and a.s.sisted to hold him on, while all three were hauled through the foaming surf towards the rocks.

Then, and not till then, did the young stranger rise from his knees, and hurry on towards the spot where he believed his father was about to be landed.

Those in the water were, however, still exposed to a very great danger.

This was from the pieces of wreck which were das.h.i.+ng about in every direction, and a blow from which might prove fatal.

The boy hurried along over the slippery rocks. He got near enough to see his father's countenance turned with eyes of affection towards him.

The son knew that he was recognised, and that his father was aware of his safety. A piece of timber came das.h.i.+ng by. Had not the fishermen been near him, it would have torn him from his hold. As it was, Holmes received a severe blow which almost disabled him, but he held on, and in another minute all three were in the grasp of the men collected on the rock to a.s.sist them.

The first impulse of the father and his son was to throw themselves into each other's arms, and then the father knelt down and returned thanks to Heaven for his preservation.

While this episode in the fearful history of that s.h.i.+pwreck was going forward, a hawser or stout rope had been carried from the stranded s.h.i.+p to the sh.o.r.e. Several seamen worked their way along it, and readied the rock in safety. Then another came, but a sea rolled by, and, sweeping him from his hold, he was carried far away out of sight.

The tide was rising, and rendering it more dangerous every moment to those remaining on the wreck. This made the seamen hurry on along the hawser. Dangerous was the transit, requiring a strong arm and firm nerves. Another huge sea came rolling in. The already shattered vessel could not withstand its force, and in a moment, as if it had been formed of the most brittle materials, was s.h.i.+vered into a thousand fragments, which came rolling on in tangled ma.s.ses towards the sh.o.r.e.

Most of the men, and two of the officers, had reached the rocks; but the master and one of his mates, who had refused to leave the s.h.i.+p till all had left her, with two or three of the men, still remained on board at the moment she broke up. They were now seen struggling in the waves among the broken ma.s.ses of the wreck.

In vain the brave fishermen dashed into the sea to save them. One after the other, struck by pieces of timber, or spars, or floating packages, were seen to go down without further efforts to save themselves. At last, one only remained alive. On him all the interest of those on sh.o.r.e was concentrated.