rash idea. Oh, bo'sun, bo'sun, be smart!"

The boat had drifted some distance, before the old man, who, though
really quick, seemed to be working with desperate deliberation, was
ready to gather his line up in rings, and climb along the rocks till he
was abreast, and could make his cast.

The climb was difficult, as we have seen, and half a score of hands were
ready to snatch the rings from his hands, and try to go and cast them.

But discipline prevailed. It was Strake's duty, and he clambered up,
followed by the men who were to haul; while on the vessel Roylance stood
with his arms folded, waiting, the water rolling in every now and then
nearly over his knees, and--horror of horrors!--the two sharks slowly
gliding round and round the boat, their fins out of the water, and
evidently waiting for an opportunity to make a dash at the unfortunate
lad and drag him off.

"Now, now!" was uttered by every one in a low undertone that sounded
like a groan, as the old boatswain stopped short, raised the ring of
rope, holding one end tightly in his hand, and cast.

The rings glistened in the sun like a chain as the main part went on,
and there was a groan of horror, for the end of the last ring fell short
with a splash in the water.

"He's gone!" muttered Syd. "Oh, my poor brave, true lad!"

But even as he uttered those words, with sinking heart the boatswain was
gathering the line up into rings again, with the most calm deliberation,
climbing along the edge of the cliff as he went, till he was again well
abreast of the vessel, when he paused to measure the distance he had to
throw with his eye, for it was farther than it was before.

The line, too, was heavy with its fresh drenching, and a murmur once
more arose as it seemed to them that the old man was losing confidence,
and letting the time go by; for though he would be able to follow along
right to the end of the rock, the line of coast trended in, and the
current was evidently setting out, and increasing the distance.

"Oh, Strake! throw--throw," whispered Syd, who was close behind.

"Ay, my lad," said the old man, calmly; "it's now or never. Safety for
him, or the losing of a good lad as we all loves. Now, then--with a
will! stand clear! Hagh!"

He uttered a peculiar sound, as, after waving the rings of rope well
above his head, he looked across at Roylance, who stood in a bent
attitude, close to the side, forgetful of the sharks; and then, with
everybody