e water, to the surface of which he had
just risen, after having once gone down from the force with which he had
fallen into the sea. Murray dreaded lest he should again see him sink.
He exerted all his strength to get up to him. The life-buoy was not far
off. Had there been time he would have first towed it up to Jack, but
he was afraid if he did that he would in the meantime sink. Murray swam
bravely on. The foam, as the wind swept it off the surface of the sea,
dashed wildly in his face, but he kept his eye fixed steadily on Jack's
head, that should he go down again, he might know exactly where to dive
after him. Murray, under Jack's instruction, had been constantly
practising swimming, and he now very nearly equalled his master in the
art. His courage was as high, and what he wanted in muscular strength
he made up by his undaunted spirit. He longed to know what had become
of the frigate, but he would not turn his head to look. His first
object was to get hold of Jack, and to keep his face out of the water,
that, when animation returned, he might not be suffocated. With steady
strokes he swam on, admirably retaining his presence of mind. Every
stroke was measured. There was no hurry, no bustle, with Murray; he
knew that such would only bring worse speed. What an excellent example
did he set of the way to attain an important object! Calmly eyeing it,
and though clearly comprehending all the difficulties and dangers which
surrounded him, with unswerving courage pushing towards his point.
"Keep up! keep up, Jack!" he sang out, but Jack did not hear him. The
seas, every moment increasing, came roaring towards him, while the foam
dashed over his head. He surmounted them all. "I am here. Jack! I am
here!" he repeated, as he grasped Jack by the collar and turned him over
on his back, so that his face might be uppermost. A faint moan was all
the reply Rogers gave. It was satisfactory, as it assured Murray that
he was alive. Now he looked round anxiously for the life-buoy. It had
drifted away before the gale. But then he also had the wind in his
favour, and he did not despair of overtaking it. With one hand
supporting his shipmate, and with the other striking out, he swam
steadily on as before towards the life-buoy. Evening was coming on.
Darkness he knew would soon overspread the sea. He knew that. He knew
the difficulty there might be in finding him and his companion. A far
more practical swimmer