ot and a boathook live, and its
effect is good. The half-drowned man becomes articulate enough to
justify the report. "It's his daughter he's asking for--overboard,
too!" and then the man who spoke first says: "You be easy in your
mind, master; we'll find her. Bear away a bit, and lie to, Tom." Tom
is the man in the cobble, and he does as he is bidden. He ships his
sculls and drifts, watching round on all sides for what may be just
afloat near the surface. The four-oar remains, and the eyes of her
crew are straining hard to catch a sight of anything that is not mere
lift and ripple of a wave.

Then more boats one after another, and more, and the gathering crowd
that lines the shore sees them scatter and lie to, some way apart, to
watch the greater space of water. All drift, because they know that
what they seek is drifting, too, and that if they move they lose their
only chance; for the thing they have to find is so small, so small,
and that great waste of pitiless sea is so large. It is their only
chance.

The crowd, always growing, moves along the beach as the flotilla of
drifting boats move slowly with the tide. They can hear the shouting
from boat to boat, but catch but little of the words. They follow
on, with little speech among themselves, and hope dying slowly out
of their hearts. Gradually towards the jetty, where the girl they are
seeking sat, only a few days since, beside the man whose heart the
memory of yesterday is still rejoicing; the only trouble of whose
unconscious soul is the thought that he and she must soon be parted,
however short the term of their separation may be. He will know more
soon.

Suddenly the shouting increases in the boats, and excited voices break
the silence on the shore. It won't do to hope too much, but surely all
the boats are thickening to one spot.... No, it's nothing!... Yes, it
_is_--it _is_ something--one knows what--sighted abaft the Ellen Jane,
whose steersman catches it with a boathook as the oars we on the beach
saw suddenly drop back water--slowly, cautiously--and only wait for
him to drag the light weight athwart the gunwale to row for the dear
life towards the town. The scattered crowd turns and comes back,
trampling the shingle, to meet the boat as she lands, and follow what
she brings to the nearest haven.

CHAPTER XLVI

AN ERRAND IN VAIN, AND HOW DR. CONRAD CAME TO KNOW. CONCERNING LLOYD'S
COFFEEHOUSE, AND THE BATTLE OF CAMPERDOWN. MARSHALL HALL'S SYS