knowledge that his godson was safe seemed to revive him. Billy then
remembered the provisions he had got in his pocket, and served them out
among his companions, the two prisoners getting an equal share.

Dawn came at last, and presented a fearful scene of wreck and confusion:
the dark-green seas were rising up on every side, topped with foam,
which came down in showers on the deck, blown off by the fierce wind;
while the lately trim brig lay shattered and dismantled, and, too
evidently, far deeper in the water than she had been before the gale.

Not a boat remained; there were not even the means of making a raft.

"But what can we do, Paul?" asked True Blue, thinking how sad it was
that his fine old friend should thus ingloriously lose his life. Paul
smiled as he answered:

"Trust in Providence, boy. That's the best sheet-anchor a seaman can
hold to when he's done his duty and can do no more. There are others as
badly off as we are, depend on that."

When his godfather had ceased speaking, True Blue cast his eye around in
the faint hope that some aid might possibly be at hand. As he did so,
he saw that several pieces of wreck were floating round the brig. As
the light increased, he thought he saw the form of a man on one of them.
He looked again; he pointed the spar out to the rest: they were of the
same opinion. The man was alive, too. He saw the wreck, he waved to
them, he turned his face with a look imploring assistance.

"Here, Tom, make this rope fast round me; I think that I can reach that
poor fellow. The next send of the sea will bring him close alongside."

Though True Blue was a first-rate swimmer for his age, Marline demurred
and appealed to Pringle.

"He is only a Frenchman and an enemy, after all," argued Marline.

"He's a fellow-creature, Tom," answered True Blue. "Here, make fast the
rope. I am sure I can save him."

"Will you let him go, Paul?" asked Tom as a last resource.

Paul raised himself on his arm.

"If the lad thinks it's his duty to try and save the man, yes," he
answered firmly. "If he loses his life, it will be just as a true
British sailor should wish to lose it. Go, boy; Heaven preserve you."

There was an unusual tone of solemnity and dignity in the way Paul spoke
as he grasped his godson's hand. The rope had by this time been
properly adjusted. The piece of wreck with the man on it was drifting
nearer and nearer. The man on it again waved his hand. True Blu