seeing the importance of haste in
preserving his own skin, plucked the man backwards by the collar, and
passed over his sprawling body to the shore. Cox, grasping at anything
to save himself, clutched an oar, and the next moment found himself
borne out with the overturned whale-boat by the under-tow. He was
drifted past his only hope of rescue--the guard-boat--with a velocity
that forbade all attempts at rescue, and almost before the poor
scoundrel had time to realize his condition, he was in the best possible
way of escaping the hanging that his comrades had so often humorously
prophesied for him. Being a strong and vigorous villain, however, he
clung tenaciously to his oar, and even unbuckling his leather belt,
passed it round the slip of wood that was his salvation, girding himself
to it as firmly as he was able. In this condition, plus a swoon from
exhaustion, he was descried by the helmsman of the Pretty Mary, a few
miles from Cape Surville, at daylight next morning. Blunt, with a wild
hope that this waif and stray might be the lover of Sarah Purfoy, dead,
lowered a boat and picked him up. Nearly bisected by the belt, gorged
with salt water, frozen with cold, and having two ribs broken, the
victim of Vetch's murderous quickness retained sufficient life to
survive Blunt's remedies for nearly two hours. During that time he
stated that his name was Cox, that he had escaped from Port Arthur with
eight others, that John Rex was the leader of the expedition, that the
others were all drowned, and that he believed John Rex had been retaken.
Having placed Blunt in possession of these particulars, he further said
that it pricked him to breathe, cursed Jemmy Vetch, the settlement, and
the sea, and so impenitently died. Blunt smoked three pipes, and then
altered the course of the Pretty Mary two points to the eastward,
and ran for the coast. It was possible that the man for whom he was
searching had not been retaken, and was even now awaiting his arrival.
It was clearly his duty--hearing of the planned escape having been
actually attempted--not to give up the expedition while hope remained.

"I'll take one more look along," said he to himself.

The Pretty Mary, hugging the coast as closely as she dared, crawled in
the thin breeze all day, and saw nothing. It would be madness to land at
Cape Surville, for the whole station would be on the alert; so Blunt, as
night was falling, stood off a little across the mouth of Pirates' Bay