to leeward and then looked to windward again, in
the hopes that his eyes, which were among the sharpest on board, might
catch a glimpse of the lad. If he was clinging to the life-buoy he
might be all right, but where that was, was the question. Minutes
passed away, and still no one could discover Bill. The captain pulled
out his watch and went to the binnacle-lamp.

"Twenty minutes," he remarked to Mr Collinson. "A strong man could
scarcely swim as long in such a sea as this."

"But he may have got hold of the buoy, sir," observed Mr Collinson.

"True! If he has, I wish we could see him. I do not like to give him
up."

Another five minutes passed. Again the captain looked at his watch.
The time had appeared an age to him, as it had to most on board. He
took another turn on deck, and then looked out once more.

"Does nobody see him?" he asked; and there was sorrow and regret in his
tone.

There was no answer. The silence was very sad. Once more he returned
to the lamp.

"Half an hour has passed," he observed to Mr Barker. "I am afraid the
matter is hopeless."

"I am afraid so too," answered the lieutenant, who was a kind-hearted
man.

"It must be done!" he said. "Hands, wear ship!" he shouted out, in a
startling voice, evidently giving the order with no good will.

The men were hurrying to their stations to obey it, when Grimshaw
shouted out:--

"I heard a voice. It's Bill! It's Bill! Away to windward there!"

"Silence, fore and aft," cried the captain; and directly afterwards,
borne down by the gale, there came a loud, strange, wild cry.

"That's him! There's no mistake about it," cried Grimshaw; "hurrah!"

The crew gave a shout in reply.

"It will keep up the poor fellow's spirits," observed the captain.
"Now, silence, men." And now the awful thought crossed his mind, "Can I
allow a boat to be lowered in this broken, heavy sea, with the greatest
probability of her being capsized, and all hands in her lost?" These
words were uttered partly aloud.

"I'll go in her, sir," said Mr Collinson. "There will be no lack of
volunteers."

"Volunteers alone then must go," answered the captain. "The risk is a
fearful one, yet I cannot allow the poor lad to perish."

Scarcely had Mr Collinson shouted out, "I am going, lads! Volunteers
for the boat," than numbers of the crew came rushing aft, Jack Windy and
Grimshaw among them.

"I don't suppose we shall pick up the lad, after all," growl