itford was tenfold more
piercing. It was of a nature that defies description. Its effect was
to thrill the heart of every one who heard it. But Peggy did more than
shriek. Springing on the rail like an antelope, she would have plunged
overboard to the rescue of her friend, regardless of her own inability
to swim, and of everything else, had not a seaman, who chanced to be
listening to the conversation--caught her with a vice-like grip.

"Hold on, Peggy!" he cried.

But Peggy shrieked and struggled, thus preventing the poor fellow from
attempting a rescue, while shouts and cries of "man overboard" rang
through the ship from stem to stern, until it became known that it was a
woman. Then the cries redoubled. In the midst of the hubbub the strong
but calm voice of the captain was heard to give orders to lower a boat
and port the helm--"hard a-port."

But, alas! for poor Nellie that night if her life had depended on
shouters, strugglers, shriekers, or boatmen.

At the moment the accident happened two men chanced to be standing on
the starboard side of the ship--one on the quarter-deck, the other on
the forecastle. Both men were ready of resource and prompt in action,
invaluable qualities anywhere, but especially at sea! The instant the
cry arose each sprang to and cut adrift a life-buoy. Each knew that the
person overboard might fail to see or catch a buoy in the comparative
darkness. He on the forecastle, who chanced to see Nellie fall over, at
once followed her with the life-buoy in his arms. Ignorant of this act
the man near the stern saw something struggling in the water as the ship
flew past. Without an instant's hesitation he also plunged into the sea
with a life-buoy in his grasp.

The faint light failed to reveal who had thus boldly plunged to the
rescue, but the act had been observed both at bow and stern, and a cheer
of hope went up as the ship came up to the wind, topsails were backed,
and the boat was dropped into the water.

Twenty minutes elapsed before there was any sign of the boat returning,
during which time the ship's bell was rung continually. It may be
better imagined than described the state of poor Bob Massey, who had
been asleep on a locker in the fore-cabin when the accident occurred,
and who had to be forcibly prevented, at first, from jumping into the
sea when he heard that it was Nellie who was overboard.

At last oars were heard in the distance.

"Stop that bell! boat ahoy!"