ence of intense anxiety, crowded
as close as they dared to the edge of the wharf, and the Lascars looked
down from their bulwarks in stolid admiration. There were some moments
of harrowing uncertainty, and then a shout arose from the boys, which
even the swarthy sailors imitated, after a fashion; for cleaving the
bubbled surface came the head of brave John Connors, and, close beside
it, the dripping curls of Bert Lloyd, the faces of both showing great
exhaustion.

The sailors were all alert now. Ropes were hastily flung over the side,
and swarming down these with the agility of monkeys, they took Bert out
of his rescuer's hands and passed him up to the wharf; Connors followed
unassisted, so soon as he had recovered his breath.

Once upon the wharf, they were surrounded by a noisy group of boys,
overjoyed at their playmate's happy escape from death, and overflowing
with admiration for his gallant rescuer. Bert very quickly came to
himself--for he had not indeed entirely lost consciousness--and then
Connors told him just how he had got hold of him:

"When I dived down first I couldn't see anything of you at all, my boy,
and I went hunting about with my eyes wide open and looking for you. At
last, just as I was about giving you up, I saw something dark below me
that I thought might, p'r'aps, be yourself. So I just stuck out my foot,
and by the powers if it didn't take you right under the chin. As quick
as a wink I drew you toward me, and once I had a good grip of you, I put
for the top as hard as I could go; and here we are now, safe and sound.
And, faith, I hope you won't be trying it again in a hurry."

[Illustration: BERT RESCUED.--_Page_ 214.]

Bert was very much in earnest when he assured him he would not, and
still more in earnest when he tried to express his gratitude. But
Connors would none of it.

"Not at all, not at all, my boy," said he, with a laugh. "A fine young
chap like you is well worth saving any day, and it's not in John Connors
to stand by and see you drown, even if those black-faced furriners don't
know any better."

CHAPTER XXI.

LEARNING TO SWIM.

Bert's appearance, when he made his way home with dripping clothes, and
face still pale from what he had undergone, created no small
consternation. His sister was particularly alarmed, and it took some
time to convince her that, once having got out of the grasp of the
greedy water, he was really in no more danger. Had she been permitted t