d was
blowing even harder than before. It seemed a wonder that the _Dugong_
could stand so much battering. Still, we could dimly see her through
the gloom, her masts yet standing, though heeling over towards the land.
Every now and then a huge sea swept over the larger portion of the
wreck; and numerous pieces of plank thrown on the rocks showed us that
already her bulwarks at all events were giving way.

"I suspect that Dick Tarbox and the others will not desert Mr Hooker;
and they are afraid of his suffering should he attempt to come ashore,"
I observed to Roger Trew.

"That is it, Master Walter," he answered. "Depend on it they will not
leave him till they are washed out of the ship. I should like to go on
board and see how they are getting on."

I urged him, however, not to make the attempt.

"It is far more easy for them to come to us than for you to go on
board," I observed. "Let us wait patiently; perhaps as the night
advances the gale will abate."

Still the wind blew as hard as ever. At length, just as Mr Sedgwick
had gone back to the house to look after the girls and Frau Ursula, a
shout reached our ears. We hurried to the point of the rock, and there
we saw what looked like a huge piece of wreck being driven towards us.

"I am afraid the brig is breaking up," I observed. "Poor Mr Hooker!
What can we do to help him?"

We tried to pierce the gloom to ascertain who was on the wreck. By
degrees we saw that, instead of a piece of wreck, it was a small boat.
Those in her were holding on to the hawsers. Now she rose, now she
fell, as the waves passed under her. We could scarcely understand how
she could live in that tossing sea, with the weight of several people on
board. At length she seemed to stop, and turned round broadside to us.

"She must go over," shouted Roger. "Look out; help them as they come
ashore."

She was at that time near enough for us to see two persons leap
overboard; one, it seemed, holding on to the other. They approached.
Again a voice shouted "Look out!" Roger Trew ran to the point of the
rock, holding on to the rope, and stretching over into the sea. We
could now distinguish the two men. Nearer and nearer they came.

"Give me your hand, Cooky, give me your hand," cried Roger, stretching
out his arm; and then I saw that Potto Jumbo was working along the
hawser, with Mr Hooker secured by a rope to his back. The dawn was
just breaking. The cry of some sea-fowl as t