ad
of the cask--they dart forward--the undertow has got them. No!--they
are struggling desperately with it--they don't lose ground--on they
go!--No!"

There was a cry that the sea had carried them back, but the next moment
their heads appeared on the top of a foaming sea, and on it rushed
towards the beach.

Now was the critical moment. Their shipmates on board the wreck held
their breath as they watched their progress. One was seen to rise up on
the beach from out of a sheet of foam, and to hurry upwards; but there
was only one. He did not stop a moment. Down he dashed again. He had
a grasp of a rope, though the other end of which was held by the people
on the shore.

Without hesitation, he plunged once more into the seething waters; he
did not again appear--there was a cry of despair--all thought he was
lost--but no--the next instant he was seen, and this time with a
companion, and aided by the people, who were on the watch for them, they
both together hurried up the beach, and the cask, with the line, was
hauled up after them.

The great object was accomplished; a communication was secured with the
shore. The passage, however, was still full of danger.

More line was procured. A traveller and slings were fitted, and Rawson
volunteered to lead the way. Should he succeed, the passage would be
somewhat less dangerous.

The people on shore now tightened the rope. He took a supply of line
with which to haul the next person on shore. A shout from the English
seamen proclaimed that he was successful.

It was now according to rule, under such circumstances, the privilege of
the youngest to proceed. Dicky Glover was ordered into the slings.

"If I must go, may I take the young Frenchman?" he asked. "I know
Morton would wish it."

"Yes, be sharp," answered Mr Calder, assisting himself to secure them
both. Away they went on their perilous passage. It was near sun-down
when the ship struck. It was now rapidly getting dark. What a night of
horrors was there for those who were compelled to spend it on board the
wreck.

When Dicky Glover had nearly reached the shore, the surf almost tore
young Gerardin from the slings, and the hold he had of him. Almost
hopelessly he struggled. In another instant they both would have been
carried away, when Glover saw some one making his way through the
foaming water towards him. A friendly hand grasped his, and in another
minute he and his charge were hauled up ou