He, too, had caught the faint shout. Looking back along the spine just
as the Moon came clear again, he saw white spray rise and fall--and
then the figure of Kesserich stumbling through it.
"Mary, wait for me!"
The figure was halfway across when it lurched, started forward again,
then was jerked back as if something had caught its ankle. Out of the
darkness, the next wave sent a line of white at it neck-high, crashed.
Jack hesitated, but another great gust of wind tore at the half-raised
sail, and it was all he could do to keep the sloop from capsizing and
head her into the wind again.
Mary was tugging at his shoulder. "You must help him," she was saying.
"He's caught in the rocks."
He heard a voice crying, screaming crazily above the surf:
"Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world--"
The sloop rocked. Jack had it finally headed into the wind. He looked
around for Mary.
She had jumped out and was hurrying back, scrambling across the rocks
toward the dark, struggling figure that even as he watched was once
more engulfed in the surf.
Letting go the lines, Jack sprang toward the stern of the sloop.
But just then another giant blow came, struck the sail like a great
fist of air, and sent the boom slashing at the back of his head.
His last recollection was being toppled out onto the rocks and
wondering how he could cling to them while unconscious.