hirt, but the
garment gave way, and next moment he was down in the boiling flood.
Guy, with an impulse that was natural to him, was about to leap off to
his rescue, but Bluenose caught him by the collar and held him forcibly
back. In another moment the man was gone for ever.

So silently did all this pass, and so furious was the tumult of the
storm, that Lucy and her father were not aware of what had occurred.

Our brave little friend Tommy Bogey was the next who failed. Whether it
was that witnessing the seaman's death had too powerful an effect on his
spirit, or that the cold acted more severely on his young muscles than
on those of his companions, it is impossible to say, but, soon after the
loss of the man, the boy felt his strength giving way. Turning with
instinctive trust to his friend in this extremity, he shouted:--

"Bax, give us a hand!"

Before his friend could do so, his grasp relaxed and he fell back with a
piercing shriek that rose above even the howling wind.

Almost an instant after he struck the water, Bax dived head-foremost
into it, and came up with him in his arms. Both man and boy went to
leeward instantly. The former had counted on this. The fate of the
seaman who had just perished had led him to reflect that a vigorous
effort might have enabled him to gain the stump of the fore-mast, which
still stood, as we have said, to leeward of the main-mast. Acting on
this thought, he had plunged without hesitation when the moment for
action came, although it did come unexpectedly.

A faint shout soon told his horror-stricken companions that he had
gained the point of safety.

"It won't do to leave 'em there," cried Bluenose, starting up, and
clambering as far out on the cross-trees as he dared venture; "even if
the mast holds on, them seas would soon wash away the stoutest man
living."

"Oh! save my preserver!" cried Lucy, who, regardless of the storm, had
sprung wildly up, and now stood clinging to a single rope, while her
garments were almost torn from her limbs by the fury of the hurricane.

"Can nothing be done to save them?" cried the missionary as he kindly
but firmly dragged his daughter back to her former position.

"Nothin', sir," said one of the sailors. "There ain't a cask, nor
nothin' to tie a rope to an' heave to wind'ard--an' it's as like as not
it wouldn't fetch 'em if there wos. They'd never see a rope if it wos
veered to 'em--moreover, it wouldn't float. Hallo! Master