It was emphatically "a dirty night." The barometer had been slowly but
persistently falling during the two previous days; the dawn had been red
and threatening, with a strong breeze from S.E.; and as the short dreary
November day waxed and waned this strong breeze had steadily increased
in strength until by nightfall it had become a regular "November gale,"
with frequent squalls of arrowy rain and sleet, which, impelled by the
furious gusts, smote and stung like hail, and cleared the streets almost
as effectually as a volley of musketry would have done.
It was not fit for a dog to be out of doors. So said Ned Anger as he
entered the snug bar-parlour of the "Anchor" at Brightlingsea, and
drawing a chair close up to the blazing fire of wreck-wood which roared
up the ample chimney, flung himself heavily down thereon to await the
arrival of the "pint" which he had ordered as he passed the bar.
"And yet there's a many poor souls as _has_ to be out in it, and as _is_
out in it," returned the buxom hostess, entering at the moment with the
aforesaid pint upon a small tray. "It's to be hoped as none of 'em
won't meet their deaths out there among the sands this fearful night,"
she added, as Ned took the glass from her, and deposited his "tuppence"
in the tray in payment therefor.
A sympathetic murmur of concurrence went round the room in response to
this philanthropic wish, accompanied in some instances by doubtful
shakes of the head.
"Ay, ay, we all hope that," remarked Dick Bird--"Dicky Bird" was the
name which had been playfully bestowed upon him by his chums, and by
which he was generally known--"we all hopes that; but I, for one, feels
uncommon duberous about it. There's hardly a capful of wind as blows
but what some poor unfort'nate craft leaves her bones out there,"--with
a jerk of the thumb over his shoulder to seaward,--"and mostly with
every wreck there's _some_ lives lost. I say, mates, I s'pose there's
somebody on the look-out?"
"Ay, ay," responded old Bill Maskell from his favourite corner under the
tall old-fashioned clock-case, "Bob's gone across the creek and up to
the tower, as usual. The boy _will_ go; always says as how it's his
_duty_ to go up there and keep a look-out in bad weather; so, as his
eyes is as sharp as needles, and since one is as good as a hundred for
that sort of work, I thought I'd just look in here for a hour or two,
so's to be on the spot if in case any of us should be wanted."
"I've often wondered how it is that it _always_ falls to Bob's lot to go
upon the look-out in bad weather. How is it?" asked an individual in
semi-nautical costume at the far end of the room, whose bearing and
manner conveyed the impression that he regarded himself, as indeed he
was, somewhat of an intruder. He was a ship-chandler's shopman, with an
ambition to be mistaken for a genuine "salt," and had not been many
months in the place.
"Well, you see, mister, the way of it is just this," explained old
Maskell, who considered the question as addressed more especially to
him: "Bob was took off a wrack on the Maplin when he was a mere babby,
the only one saved; found him wrapped up warm and snug in one of the
bunks on the weather side of the cabin with the water surging up to
within three inches of him; so ever since he's been old enough to
understand he've always insisted as it was his duty, by way of returning
thanks, like, to take the look-out when a wrack may be expected. And,
don't you make no mistake, there ain't an eye so sharp as his for a
signal-rocket in the whole place, see's 'em almost afore they be fired--
he do."
"And did you ever try to find his relatives?" asked the shopman.
"Well, no; I can't say as we did, exactly," answered old Bill, "'cause
you see we didn't rightly know how to set to work at the job. The ship
as he was took off of was a passenger-ship, the _Lightning_ of London,
and, as I said afore, he was the only one saved. There were nobody else
as we could axe any questions of, and, the ship hailing from London,
there was no telling _where_ his friends might have come from. There
was R.L. marked on his little clothes, and that was all. So we was
obliged to content ourselves with having that fact tacked on to the yarn
of the wrack in all the papers, in the hope that some of his friends or
relations might get to see it. But, bless yer heart! we ain't heard
nothing from nobody about him, never a word; so I just adopted him, as
the sayin' is, and called him Robert Legerton, arter a old shipmate of
mine that's been drowned this many a year, poor chap."
"And how long is it since the wreck happened?" inquired the shopman.
"Well, let me see," said old Bill. "Blest if I can rightly tell," he
continued, after a moment or two of reflection. "I've got it wrote down
in the family Bible at home, but I can't just rightly recollect at this
moment. It's somewheres about fourteen or fifteen years ago this
winter, though."
"Fourteen year next month," spoke up another of the company, decidedly.
"It was the same gale as my poor brother Joe was drowned in."
"Right you are, Tom," returned Bill. "I remember it _was_ that same
gale now, and that's fourteen year agone. And the women as took charge
of poor little Bob when we brought him ashore reckoned as he was about
two year old or thereaway; they told his age by his teeth--same as you
would tell a horse's age, you know, mister."
"Ay! that was a terrible winter for wrecks, that was," remarked Jack
Willis, a fine stalwart young fellow of some five-and-twenty. "It was
my first year at sea. I'd been bound apprentice to the skipper of a
collier brig called the _Nancy_, sailing out of Harwich. The skipper's
name was Daniell, `Long Tom Dan'ell' they used to call him because of
his size. He was so tall that he couldn't stand upright in his cabin,
and he'd been going to sea for so many years that he'd got to be regular
round-shouldered. I don't believe that man ever knowed what it was to
be ill in his life; he used to be awful proud of his good health, poor
chap! he's dead now--drowned--jumped overboard in a gale of wind a'ter a
man as fell off the fore-topsail-yard while they was reefing; and, good
swimmer as he was, they was both lost. Now, he _was_ a swimmer if you
like. You talk about young Bob being a good swimmer, but I'm blessed if
I think he could hold a candle to this here Long Tom Dan'ell as I'm
talking about. Why, I recollect once when we was lyin' wind-bound in
Yarmouth Roads--"
At this point the narrator was interrupted by the sudden opening of the
door and the hurried entry of a tall and somewhat slender fair-haired
lad clad in oilskin jumper, leggings, and "sou'-wester" hat, which
glistened in the gaslight; while, as he stood in the doorway for a
moment, dazzled by the abrupt transition from darkness to light, the
water trickled off him and speedily formed a little pool at his feet on
the well sanded floor.
This new-comer was Bob Legerton, the hero of my story.
"Well, Bob, what's the news?" was the general exclamation, as the
assembled party rose with one accord to their feet. "Rockets going up
from the `Middle' and the `Gunfleet,'" panted the lad, as he wiped the
moisture from his eyes with the back of his hand.
"All right," responded old Bill. Then drawing himself up to his full
height and casting a scrutinising glance round the room, he exclaimed--
"Now, mates, how many of yer's ready to go out?"
"Why, _all_ of us in course, dad," replied Jack Willis. "'Twas mostly
in expectation of bein' wanted that we comed down here to-night. And
we've all got our oilskins, so you've only got to pick your crew and
let's be off."
A general murmur of assent followed this speech, and the men forthwith
ranged themselves along the sides of the room so as to give Bill a clear
view of each individual and facilitate a rapid choice.
"Then I'll take you, Jack; and you, Dick; and you; and you; and you;"
quickly selecting a strong crew of the stoutest and most resolute men in
the party.
The chosen ones lost no time in donning their oilskin garments, a task
in which they were cheerfully assisted by the others; and while they
were so engaged the hostess issued from the bar with tumblers of smoking
hot grog, one of which she handed to each of the adventurers, saying--
"There, boys, drink that off before you go out into the cold and the
wet; it'll do none of you any harm, I'm sure, on a night like this, and
on such an errand as yours. And you, Bill, if you save anybody and
decide to bring 'em into Brightlingsea, send up a signal-rocket as soon
as you think we can see it over the land, and I'll have hot water and
blankets all ready for the poor souls against they come ashore."
"Ay, ay, mother; I will," replied old Bill. "Only hope we may be lucky
enough to get out to 'em in time; the wind's dead in our teeth all the
way. Now, lads, if ye're all ready let's be off. Thank'ee, mother, for
the grog."
The men filed out, Bill leading, and took their way down to the beach, a
very few yards distant, the dim flickering light of a lantern being
exhibited from the water-side for a moment as they issued into the open
air.
"There's Bob waitin' with the boat; what a chap he is!" ejaculated one
of the men as the light was seen. "I say, Bill, you won't take Bob,
will you, on an errand like this here?"
"Oh, ay," responded Bill. "He'll want to go; and I promised him he
should next time as we was called out. He's a fine handy lad, and old
enough to take care of himself by this time. Besides, it's time he
began to take his share of the rough work."
Reaching the water's edge they found Bob standing there with the painter
of a boat in his hand, the boat itself being partially grounded on the
beach. They quickly tumbled in over the gunwale; Bob then placed his
shoulder against the stem-head, and with a powerful "shove," drove the
boat stern-foremost into the stream, springing in over the bows and
stowing himself away in the eyes of the boat as she floated.
It appeared intensely dark outside when the members of the expedition
first issued from the hospitable portal of the "Anchor;" but there was a
moon, although she was completely hidden by the dense canopy of fast-
flying clouds which overspread the heavens; and the faint light which
struggled through this thick veil of vapour soon revealed a small fleet
of fishing smacks at anchor in the middle of the creek. Toward one of
these craft the boat was headed, and in a very few minutes the party
were scrambling over the low bulwarks of the _Seamew_--Bill Maskell's
property, and the pride of the port.
The boat was at once dragged in on deck and secured, and then, without
hurry or confusion of any kind, but in an incredibly short time, the
smack was unmoored and got under weigh, a faint cheer from the shore
following her as she wound her way down the creek between the other
craft, and, hauling close to the wind, headed toward the open sea.
In a very few minutes the gallant little _Seamew_ had passed clear of
the low point upon which stands the Martello Tower which had been Bob's
place of look-out, and then she felt the full fury of the gale and the
full strength of the raging sea. Even under the mere shred of sail--a
balance-reefed main-sail and storm jib--which she dared to show, the
little vessel was buried to her gunwale, while the sea poured in a
continuous cataract over her bows, across her deck, and out again to
leeward, rendering it necessary for her crew to crouch low on the deck
to windward under the partial shelter of her low bulwarks, and to lash
themselves there.
It was indeed a terrible night. The thermometer registered only a
degree or two above freezing-point; and the howling blast, loaded with
spindrift and scud-water, seemed to pierce the adventurers to their very
marrow, while, notwithstanding the care with which they were wrapped up,
the continuous pouring of the sea over them soon wet them to the skin.
But the serious discomfort to which they had voluntarily exposed
themselves, so far from damping their ardour only increased it. As the
veteran Bill, standing there at the tiller exposed to the full fury of
the tempest, with the tiller-ropes pulling and jerking at his hands
until they threatened to cut into the bone, felt his wet clothing
clinging to his skin, and his sea-boots gradually filling with water, he
pictured to himself a group of poor terror-stricken wretches clinging
despairingly to a shattered wreck out there upon the cruel sands, with
the merciless sea tugging at them fiercely, and the wind chilling the
blood within their veins until, perchance, their benumbed limbs growing
powerless, their hold would relax and they would be swept away; and as
the dismal scene rose before his mental vision he tautened up the
tiller-ropes a trifle, the smack's head fell off perhaps half a point,
and the wind striking more fully upon the straining canvas, she went
surging out to seaward like a startled steed, her hull half buried in a
whirling chaos of flying foam.
Old Bill, the leader of this desperate expedition, was a fisherman in
winter and a yachtsman in summer, as indeed were most of the crew of the
_Seamew_ on this eventful night. Many a hard-fought match had Bill
sailed in, and more than one flying fifty had he proudly steered, a
winner, past the flag-ship; but his companions agreed, as they crouched
shivering under the bulwarks, that he never handled a craft better or
more boldly than he did the _Seamew_ on that night. One good stretch to
the eastward, until the "Middle" light bore well upon their weather
quarter, and the helm was put down; the smack tacked handsomely, though
she shipped a sea and filled her deck to the gunwale in the operation,
and then away she rushed on the other tack, with the light bearing well
upon the lee bow.
In less than an hour from the time of starting the light ship was
reached; and as the smack, luffing into the wind, shaved close under the
vessel's stern with all her canvas ashiver, Bill's stentorian voice
pealed out--
"_Middle_, ahoy! where a way's the wrack?"
"About a mile and half to the nor'ard, on the weather side of the
Gunfleet. Fancy she must have broke up, can't make her out now. Wish
ye good luck," was the reply.
"Thank'ee," roared back Bill. "Ease up main and jib-sheets, boys, and
stand clear for a jibe."
Round swept the little _Seamew_, and in another moment, with the wind on
her starboard quarter, she was darting almost with the speed of her
namesake, along the weather edge of the shoal, upon her errand of mercy.
All eyes were now keenly directed ahead and on the lee bow, anxiously
watching for some indication of the whereabouts of the wreck, and in a
few minutes the welcome cry was simultaneously raised by three or four
of the watchers, "There she is!"
"Ay, there she is; sure enough!" responded old Bill from his post at the
tiller, he having like the rest caught a momentary glimpse under the
foot of the main-sail of a shapeless object which had revealed itself
for a single instant in the midst of the whirl of boiling breakers, only
to be lost sight of again as the leaping waves hurled themselves once
more furiously down upon their helpless prey.
As the smack rapidly approached the scene of the disaster the wreck was
made out to be that of a large ship, with only the stump of her main-
mast standing. She was already fast settling down in the sand, the
forepart of the hull being completely submerged, while the sea swept
incessantly over the stern, which, with its full poop, formed the sole
refuge of the hapless crew.
"Now, boys," remarked old Bill when they had approached closely enough
to perceive the desperate situation of those on the wreck. "Now, boys,
whatever we're going to do has got to be done smart; the tide's rising
fast, and in another hour there won't be enough of yon ship left to
light a fire wi'. Are yer all ready wi' the anchor?"
"Ay, ay; all ready," was the prompt response.
The helm was put down, and the smack plunged round head to wind, her
sails flapping furiously as the wind was spilled out of them. There was
no need for orders; the men all knew exactly what to do, and did it
precisely at the right moment. Jib and main-sail were hauled down and
secured in less time than it takes to describe it; and then, as the
little vessel lost her "way," the heavy anchor--carried expressly for
occasions like the present--was let go, and the cable veered cautiously
out so that the full strain might not be brought to bear upon it too
suddenly. Old Bill, meanwhile, stood aft by the taffrail with the lead-
line in his hand, anxiously noting the shoaling water as the smack
drifted sternward toward the wreck.
"Hold on, for'ard," he shouted at last, when the little _Seamew_ had
driven so far in upon the sand that there was little more than a foot of
water beneath her keel when she sank into the trough of the sea. "Now
lay aft here, all hands, and let's see if we can get a rope aboard of
'em."
The smack was now fairly among the breakers, which came thundering down
upon the shoal with indescribable fury, boiling and foaming and tumbling
round the little vessel in a perfect chaos of confusion, and falling on
board her in such vast volumes that had everything not been securely
battened down beforehand she must inevitably have been swamped in a few
minutes. As for her crew, every man of them worked with the end of a
line firmly lashed round his waist, so that in the extremely likely
event of his being washed overboard his comrades might have the means of
hauling him on board again.
Nor wore these the only dangers to which the adventurers were exposed.
There was the possibility that the cable, stout as it was, might part at
any moment, and in such a case their fate would be sealed, for nothing
could then prevent the smack from being dashed to pieces on the sands.
Yet all these dangers were cheerfully faced by these men from a pure
desire to serve their fellow-creatures, and without the slightest hope
of reward, for they knew at the very outset that there would not be much
hope of salvage, with a vessel on the sands in such a terrible gale.
The wreck was now directly astern of the smack, and only about one
hundred feet distant, so that she could be distinctly seen, as it
fortunately happened that the sky had been steadily clearing for the
last quarter of an hour, allowing the moon to peep out unobscured now
and then through an occasional break in the clouds. By the increasing
light the smack's crew were not only enabled to note the exact position
of the wreck, but they could also see that a considerable number of
people were clustered upon the poop of the half-submerged hull, some of
them being women and children. The poor souls were all watching with
the most intense anxiety the movements of those on board the smack, and
if anything had been needed to stimulate the exertions of her crew it
would have been abundantly found in the sight of those poor helpless
mothers and their little ones clinging there to the shattered wreck in
the bitter winter midnight, exposed to the full fury of the pitiless
storm.
A light heaving-line was quickly cleared away, and one end bent to a
rope becket securely spliced to a small keg, which was then thrown
overboard and allowed to drift down toward the wreck, the line being
veered freely away at the same time.
The crew of the wreck, anxiously watching the motions of those on board
the smack, at once comprehended the object of this manoeuvre, and, as
the keg drifted down toward them, made ready to secure it. But the set
of the tide, the wash of the sea, or some other unexplained circumstance
caused it to deviate so far from its intended course that it passed at a
considerable distance astern of the wreck, notwithstanding the utmost
endeavours of those on board to secure it; in consequence of which it
had to be hauled on board the smack again, and thus valuable time was
lost. The smack's helm was at once shifted, and the tide, aided by the
wind, gave her so strong a sheer in the required direction that it was
hoped a repetition of the mischance would be impossible. The keg was
again thrown overboard, the line once more veered away. Buoyantly it
drifted down toward the wreck, now buried in the hissing foam-crest of a
mighty breaker, and anon riding lightly in the liquid valley behind it.
All eyes were intently fixed upon it, impatiently watching its slow and
somewhat erratic movements, when the smack seemed to leap suddenly
skyward, rearing up like a startled courser, and heeling violently over
on her beam-ends at the same moment; there was a terrific thud forward,
accompanied by a violent crashing sound, and the _Seamew's_ crew had
barely time to grasp the cleat or belaying-pin nearest at hand when a
foaming deluge of water hissed and swirled past and over them, the
breaker of which it formed a part sweeping from under the smack down
toward the wreck in an unbroken wall of green water, capped with a white
and ominously curling crest. The roller broke just as it reached the
wreck, expending its full force upon her already shattered hull; the
black mass was seen to heel almost completely over in the midst of the
wildly tossing foam, there was a dull report, almost like that of a gun,
a piercing shriek, which rose clearly above the howling of the gale and
the babel of the maddened waters, and when the wreck again became
visible it was seen that she had broken in two amidships, the bow lying
bottom-upward some sixty feet farther in upon the sand, while the stern,
which retained its former position, had been robbed of nearly half its
living freight. And, to make matters worse, the floating keg had once
more missed its mark.
This repeated failure was disheartening. The tide was rising rapidly;
every minute was worth a human life, and it began to look as though, in
spite of all effort, the poor souls clinging to the wreck would be swept
into eternity before the _Seamew's_ crew could effect a communication
with them.
"Let's have one more try, boys," exhorted old Bill; "and if we misses
her this time we shall have to shift our ground and trust to our own
anchor and chain to hold us until we can get 'em off."
Risky work that would be, as each man there told himself; but none
thought of expressing such a sentiment aloud, preferring to take the
risk rather than abandon those poor souls to their fate.
The line and keg were rapidly hauled on board the smack once more, and
Bill was standing aft by the taffrail watching for a favourable moment
at which to make another cast, when Bob exclaimed excitedly--
"'Vast heavin', father; 'taint no use tryin' that dodge any more--we're
too far to leeward. Cast off the line and take a turn with it round my
waist; I'm goin' to try to swim it. I know I can do it, dad; and it's
the only way as we can do any good."
The old man stared aghast at the lad for a moment, then he glanced at
the mad swirl of broken water astern, then back once more to Bob, who,
in the meantime, was rapidly divesting himself of his clothing.
"God bless ye, boy, for the thought," he at length ejaculated; "God
bless ye, but it ain't possible. Even if the water was _warm_ the
breaking seas 'd smother ye; but bitter cold as 'tis you wouldn't swim a
dozen yards. No, no, Bob, my lad, put on your duds again; we must try
sum'at else."
But Bob had by this time disencumbered himself of everything save a
woollen under-shirt and drawers; and now, instead of doing his adopted
father's bidding, he rapidly cast off the line from the keg, and, making
a bowline in the end, passed it over one shoulder and underneath the
other arm. The next instant he had poised himself lightly upon the
taffrail of the wildly tossing smack, and, a mighty breaker sweeping by,
with comparatively smooth water behind it, without a moment's hesitation
thence plunged head-foremost into the icy sea.
The broken water leaped and tossed wildly, as if in exultation, over the
spot where the brave lad had disappeared; while all hands--both those on
board the smack and the people on the wreck--waited breathlessly for his
reappearance on the surface. An endless time it seemed to all; and but
for the rapid passage of the thin light line out over the smack's
taffrail, indicating that Bob was swimming swiftly under water, old Bill
Maskell would have dreaded some dreadful mishap to his _protege_; but at
last a small round dark object appeared in bold relief in the midst of a
sheet of foam, which gleamed dazzling white in the clear cold light of
the moon.
It was Bob's head.
"There he is!" was the exultant exclamation of every one of the smack's
crew, and then they sent forth upon the wings of the gale a ringing
cheer, in which those upon the wreck faintly joined.
"Now, boys," exclaimed old Bill, "clear away this here line behind me,
some of yer; and look out another nice light handy one to bend on to it
in case we wants it."
The old man himself stood on the taffrail, paying out the line and
attentively watching every heave of the plunging smack, so that Bob
might not be checked in the smallest degree in his perilous passage,
nor, on the other hand, be hampered by having a superabundance of line
paid out behind him for the tide to act upon and drag hint away to
leeward.
The distance from the smack to the wreck was but short, a mere hundred
feet or so, but with the heavy surf to contend against and the line
sagging and swaying in the sea behind him, it taxed Bob's energies to
their utmost limit to make any progress at all. Indeed, it appeared to
him that, instead of progressing, he was, like the keg, drifting
helplessly to leeward with the tide. The cold water, too, chilled him
to the very marrow and seemed to completely paralyse his energies, while
the relentless surf foamed over his head almost without intermission, so
that he had the utmost difficulty in getting his breath. Nevertheless
he fought gallantly on until, after what seemed to be an eternity of
frightful exertion, he reached the side of the wreck, and grasped the
rope which its occupants flung to him. He was too completely exhausted,
however, to mount the side at that moment; and while he clung to the
rope, regaining his breath and his strength, a mighty roller came
sweeping down upon the sands, burying the smack for the moment as it
rushed passed her, and then surging forward with upreared threatening
crest toward the wreck.
There was a warning cry from those on board the wreck, as they saw this
terrible wall of water rushing down upon them, and each seized with
desperate grip whatever came nearest to hand, clinging thereto with the
tenacity of despair. Bob heard the cry, saw the danger, and had just
time to struggle clear of the wreck and pass under her stern when the
breaker burst upon them. Blinded, stunned, and breathless, he felt
himself whirled helplessly hither and thither, while a load like that of
a mountain seemed to rest upon him and press him down. At last he
emerged again, considerably to leeward of the wreck, but with the rope
which they had thrown him still in his hands. As he gasped for breath
and shook the salt water out of his eyes, something swayed against him
beneath the surface--something which he knew instantly must be a human
body. In a second he had it in his grasp, and, dragging it above water,
found it to be the body of a child, apparently about two years old. At
the same moment a powerful strain came upon the line which he held in
his hand, and he had only time to take, by a rapid movement, two or
three turns of it round his arm when those on the wreck began to haul
him on board.
In less time than it takes to tell of it, he was dragged inboard, and
lay panting and exhausted upon the steeply inclined deck of the wreck,
with a curious crowd of haggard-eyed anxious men and women gathered
round him. A man dressed in a fine white linen shirt and blue serge
trousers (he was the master of the ship, and had given his remaining
garments to shield the poor shivering, frightened children) was in the
act of kneeling down by Bob's side, apparently intending to question
him, when a piercing shriek was heard, and a woman darted forward with
the cry "My child! my child!" and seized the body which Bob had brought
on board and still held in his arms.
This incident created a diversion; and Bob speedily recovering the use
of his faculties, and rapidly explaining the intentions of those on
board the smack, a strong hawser was soon stretched from the _Seamew_ to
the wreck, a "bo'sun's chair" slung thereto; and the transport of the
shipwrecked crew and passengers at once commenced.
The journey, though short, was fraught with the utmost peril; for it
being impossible to keep the hawser strained taut, the poor unfortunate
wretches had to be dragged through rather than over the surf; and when
all was ready the women, who were of course to go first, found their
courage fail them. In vain were they remonstrated with; in vain were
they reminded that every second as it flew bore mayhap a human life into
eternity with it; the sight of the wild surf into which the hawser
momentarily plunged completely unnerved them, and they one and all
declared that, rather than face the terrible risk, they would die where
they were.
At last Bob, who knew as well as, if not better than, anyone on board
the importance of celerity, whispered a word or two in the captain's
ear. The latter nodded approvingly; and Bob at once got into the
"chair," some of the ship's crew rapidly but securely lashing him there,
in obedience to their captain's order. When all was ready the skipper,
approaching the terrified group of women, took one of their children
tenderly in his arms, and, before the unhappy mother could realise what
was about to take place, handed it to Bob.
The signal was instantly given to those on board the smack, who hauled
swiftly upon the hauling-line; Bob went swaying off the gunwale, with
his precious charge encircled safely in his arms, and in another moment
was buried in a mountain of broken water which rushed foaming past.
Only to reappear instantly afterwards, however; and in a very brief
space of time he and his charge had safely reached the smack. The
little one was handed over to the rough but tender-hearted fishermen;
but Bob, seeing that he could be useful there, at once returned to the
wreck.
There was now no further difficulty with the women. The mother whose
child had already made the adventurous passage was frantic to rejoin her
baby, and eagerly placed herself in the chair as soon as Bob vacated it.
She, too, accomplished the journey in safety; and then the others,
taking courage once more from her example, quietly took their turn, some
carrying their children with them, while others preferred to confide
their darlings to Bob, or to one of the seamen, for the dreadful passage
through the wintry sea.
The women once safe, the men made short work of it; and in little over
two hours twenty-five souls--the survivors of a company of passengers
and crew numbering in all forty-two--were safely transferred to the
_Seamew_, which, slipping her cable, at once bore away with her precious
freight for Brightlingsea.