ship was tumbling about more than
ever, and the seas, which rose high above the bulwarks, seemed every
instant about to engulf her. But where was David? He worked his way,
not without great danger of being carried overboard, to the companion
hatch, over which, stooping down, he shouted David's name. His heart
sank within him. There was no answer. "David! David!" he cried again.
"Oh, David, where are you?" Was his dear brave friend really gone?
Just then he observed that some rigging had been washed over the
starboard quarter, and he fancied that he heard a faint cry. From the
temporary position of the wreck, the sea ceased just then to break
aboard. Harry sprang aft, and there, clinging desperately to the
rigging, now almost under water, now lifted into the air, as the stern
of the ship was thrown upwards, he saw David. His friend recognised
him, but seemed unable to speak. Though Harry could not swim he could
climb well, and was strong and active. His immediate impulse was to
fasten a rope round his own waist, the other end secured round a
stanchion, and to spring towards David. "We will die together," he said
to himself as he did so, "or I will save him. May we be protected!" He
alighted on a spar close to David, whose arm he saw was caught by a
rope, from which he could not disengage himself. To do this without the
risk of his friend being washed away was no easy task. He succeeded at
length, however, in doing so, and by an effort, of which he would not
have thought himself capable, he scrambled up on deck again by means of
the tangled mass of ropes, and tattered sails and spars, which hung
overboard. Then, dreading that another sea would come and sweep them
back together into the seething ocean, they tottered to the companion
hatchway, down which Harry half dragged, half carried his friend,
closing the hatch above him. Scarcely had he done so than a tremendous
blow on the hatch, and the loud rushing sound of the water as it passed
over the deck, told them that another sea had broken aboard, which would
in all probability have swept them away to destruction. They fell on
their knees in thankfulness as they reached the cabin, that they had
been thus providentially preserved. They then went to the berth in
which old Jefferies lay. He was still too weak to move, but perfectly
sensible. They told him what had just occurred, and of the death of the
poor seaman whom they had discovered in the fore pea