ore a minute passed were fast asleep. How long we
had slept I do not know, but I was awoke with the most terrific roar I
had ever heard. I felt myself lifted right up into the air, and then,
as it were, shoved off with tremendous violence from the deck on which I
was lying, and plunged into the water. Down! Down! I sank. My ears
seemed cracking with the continued roar. My breath was going. The
horror of deep waters was upon me. Then suddenly I appeared to be
bounding up again. I thought it was all a dream; I expected to find
myself in my hammock, or in my bed at Whithyford, and certainly not
struggling amidst the foaming waters in the Indian Seas.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

When I came to the surface, I found myself amidst a mass of wreck, and
several human beings struggling desperately for dear life. Some were
crying out for help, others clutching at fragments of timber which
floated near, and others striking out and keeping themselves afloat by
their own exertions. I had become a pretty good swimmer, and seeing a
part of the wreck above water not far from me, I made towards it. On my
way I saw a person clinging to a spar a couple of fathoms off. "Who is
that?" said a voice. It was that of Dicky Esse. "Burton," I answered.
"Oh! Do help me!" he cried out. "I cannot swim, and I cannot hold on
much longer, and if I do not reach the wreck I shall drop off and be
drowned!"

"Hold on," I shouted, "and perhaps I may be able to tow the spar up to
the wreck. I will try at all events; but do not let go, Dicky! Do not
on any account!"

I swam to the spar, and, partly resting on it, shoved it before me
towards the wreck, but still I made but slow progress. I was afraid
that I should be obliged, after all, to give it up, as I felt my
strength going, when a man swimming powerfully reached us. "Help!
Help! Do help me!" I cried out. He said nothing, but just touching
the spar with one hand, so as not to sink it deeper in the water, he
shoved it on till we reached the wreck. The hammock nettings were just
above water, and afforded us a better resting-place than we could have
expected. "Thank you! Thank you!" I said, as the man hauled Dicky and
me into this place of refuge. "What shall we next do?"

"Wait till morning, and if we are then alive, we must get on shore as
best we can," he answered. I knew by the voice and accent of the
speaker that he was Mr Noalles. The bright stars shining down from the