er slacken and dip--a sign
that the tide had turned. Or if the oar floated out of sight--then too
the worst might happen to them. Already Colonel John had plans and
hopes, but freedom was needful if they were to come to anything.

"Come!" he cried impulsively. "Man, you are not a coward, I know it
well! Come!"

He let himself into the water as he spoke, and after a moment of
hesitation, and with a shiver of disgust, Bale followed his example,
let the rope go, and with quick, nervous strokes bobbed after him in
the direction of the oar. Colonel John deserved the less credit, as he
was the better swimmer. He swam long and slow, with his head low: and
his eyes watched his follower. A half minute of violent exertion, and
Bale's outstretched hand clutched the oar. It was a thick, clumsy
implement, and it floated high. In curt, clipped sentences Colonel John
bade him rest his hands on it, and thrust it before him lengthwise,
swimming with his feet.

For five minutes nothing was said, but they proceeded slowly and
patiently, rising a little above each wave and trusting--for they could
see nothing, and the light wind was in their faces--that the tide was
still seconding their efforts. Colonel John knew that if the shore lay,
as he judged, about half a mile distant, he must, to reach it, swim
slowly and reserve his strength. Though a natural desire to decide the
question quickly would have impelled him to greater exertion, he
resisted it as many a man has resisted it, and thereby has saved his
life. At the worst, he reflected that the oar would support them both
for a short time. But that meant remaining stationary and becoming
chilled.

They had been swimming for ten minutes, as he calculated, when Bale,
who floated higher, cried joyfully that he could see the land. Colonel
John made no answer, he needed all his breath. But a minute later he
too saw it loom low through the fog; and then, in some minutes
afterwards, they felt bottom and waded on to a ledge of rocks which
projected a hundred yards from the mainland eastward of the mouth of
the inlet. The tide had served them well by carrying them a little to
the eastward. They sat a moment on the rocks to recover their
strength--while the seagulls flew wailing over them--and for the first
time they took in the full gravity of the catastrophe. Every other man
in the boat had perished--so they judged, for there was no stir on
shore. On that they uttered some expressions of pit