Whether it should turn out to be the sea-chest of Ben Brace or no, it
appeared to be a chest of some sort; and, being of wood, buoyantly
floating on the water, it promised to help in supporting the swimmers,--
now so utterly exhausted as to be on the point of giving up, and going
to the bottom.
If the sailor had entertained any doubts as to the character of the
object upon which they were advancing, they were soon brought to an end.
It _was_ a sea-chest,--his own,--to him easy of identification. Well
knew he that close-fitting canvas cover, which he had himself made for
it, rendered waterproof by a coat of blue paint,--well knew he those
hanging handles of strong sennit, he had himself plaited and attached to
it; and, as if to provide against any possible dispute about the
ownership of the chest, were the letters "B.B.,"--the unmistakable
initials of Ben Brace,--painted conspicuously upon its side, just under
the keyhole, with a "fouled anchor" beneath, with stars and other
fantastic emblems scattered around,--all testifying to the artistic
skill of the owner of the kit.
The first thought of the sailor, on recognising his chest, was that some
misfortune had happened to the raft, and that it had gone to pieces.
"Poor little Will'm!" said he. "If that be so, then it be all over wi'
him."
This belief was but of short duration, and was followed by a reflection
of a more pleasant kind.
"No!" he exclaimed, contradicting his first hypothesis, "It can't be
that. What could 'a broke up the raft? There 's been no wind, nor
rough weather, as could 'a done it. Ha! I have it, Snowy. It's Will'm
's did this. He's throwed over the chest in the behopes it might help
float us. That's how it's got here. Huzza for that brave boy! Let's
cling on to the kit. There may be hope for us yet."
This suggestion was superfluous: for the idea of clinging to the kit was
intuitive, and had entered the minds of both swimmers on their first
perceiving it. It was with that view they had simultaneously set
themselves in motion, and commenced swimming towards it.
The chest certainly offered an attractive object to men circumstanced as
they were at that moment,--something more than a straw to be clutched
at. It was floating bottom downwards, and lid upwards,--just as it
might have been placed opposite Ben's own bunk in the forecastle of a
frigate,--and it appeared to be kept steadily balanced in this position
by the weight of some iron cleeting along the bottom, which acted as
ballast. Otherwise the chest sat so high upon the water, as to show
that it must either be quite empty or nearly so; for the sennit handles
at each end, which were several inches below the level of the lid, hung
quite clear above the surface.
These handles offered the most salient points to seize upon; so
tempting, too, that it was not necessary for the sailor to suggest that
Snowball should lay hold of one, while he himself sought the support of
the other.
This arrangement appeared to offer itself tacitly to the Instinct of
each; and, on arriving near the chest, they swam to opposite ends,--and
each laid hold of a handle, as soon as he came within the proper
distance to grasp it.
This kept the chest properly balanced; and although the weight they
added to it caused it to sink several inches in the water, to their
great joy its top still stood well above the surface. Even when the
light form of Lilly Lalee lay resting along the lid, there were still
several inches between the water line and its upper edge,--the only
place where sea-water could possibly find admission into the kit of the
English sailor.