Syd Belton

"No one," replied Syd, who was now as excited as his companion was calm.

"It was his own rash idea. Oh, bo'sun, bo'sun, be smart!"

The boat had drifted some distance, before the old man, who, though really quick, seemed to be working with desperate deliberation, was ready to gather his line up in rings, and climb along the rocks till he was abreast, and could make his cast.

The climb was difficult, as we have seen, and half a score of hands were ready to s.n.a.t.c.h the rings from his hands, and try to go and cast them.

But discipline prevailed. It was Strake's duty, and he clambered up, followed by the men who were to haul; while on the vessel Roylance stood with his arms folded, waiting, the water rolling in every now and then nearly over his knees, and--horror of horrors!--the two sharks slowly gliding round and round the boat, their fins out of the water, and evidently waiting for an opportunity to make a dash at the unfortunate lad and drag him off.

"Now, now!" was uttered by every one in a low undertone that sounded like a groan, as the old boatswain stopped short, raised the ring of rope, holding one end tightly in his hand, and cast.

The rings glistened in the sun like a chain as the main part went on, and there was a groan of horror, for the end of the last ring fell short with a splash in the water.

"He's gone!" muttered Syd. "Oh, my poor brave, true lad!"

But even as he uttered those words, with sinking heart the boatswain was gathering the line up into rings again, with the most calm deliberation, climbing along the edge of the cliff as he went, till he was again well abreast of the vessel, when he paused to measure the distance he had to throw with his eye, for it was farther than it was before.

The line, too, was heavy with its fresh drenching, and a murmur once more arose as it seemed to them that the old man was losing confidence, and letting the time go by; for though he would be able to follow along right to the end of the rock, the line of coast trended in, and the current was evidently setting out, and increasing the distance.

"Oh, Strake! throw--throw," whispered Syd, who was close behind.

"Ay, my lad," said the old man, calmly; "it's now or never. Safety for him, or the losing of a good lad as we all loves. Now, then--with a will! stand clear! Hagh!"

He uttered a peculiar sound, as, after waving the rings of rope well above his head, he looked across at Roylance, who stood in a bent att.i.tude, close to the side, forgetful of the sharks; and then, with everybody wis.h.i.+ng the cast G.o.d-speed, the rope was thrown.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

The excited party burst into a hearty cheer as the rings of wet rope flew glistening through the suns.h.i.+ne, and a fresh burst broke forth as they saw the outermost deftly caught by Roylance. But the cheer changed to a yell of horror as it was seen that in his effort to cast the line far enough, the old boatswain had overbalanced himself and fallen headlong down the cliff, which was, fortunately for him, sufficiently out of the perpendicular where he fell to enable him to save himself here and there by s.n.a.t.c.hing at the rugged blocks of coral, checking his fall cleverly enough till, as his companions breathlessly watched, he stopped altogether, hanging, almost, on a ledge about six feet above the waves, and only keeping himself from going farther by grasping the stones.

The intense interest was divided now between Roylance on the slowly drifting boat and the boatswain clinging for dear life.

"Who can climb down to him," cried Syd, "before the rope tightens and he is dragged off? Here, I will."

"No, sir; I'll go," said Rogers, eagerly; and without waiting further orders

"Give the rope a turn round one of the blocks as soon as you get hold of it, Rogers," cried Syd.

"Ay, ay, sir."

"Can you hold on, Strake?"

"Ay, my lad, I think I can," growled the boatswain. "Nuff to make a man hold on with them sharks down below."

"The rope--the rope!" shouted Roylance from the derelict boat.

"Yes. We're trying," cried Syd. "Here, what are you doing? Don't tighten that; you'll have Strake off the rock."

He yelled this through his hands as he saw Roylance stooping down and hauling away at the rope hand over hand.

"Perhaps he knows what he's doing," thought Syd; and he turned his attention to the boatswain and the man going to his help.

"Can any other man go down to a.s.sist?" he said. "I'm afraid that Rogers will not be able to hold on, and the boat will go."

"You'd better go, Belton," whispered Terry. "I'll take command here.

Mustn't lose poor Roylance."

Syd turned upon him sharply, and was about to follow the suggestion, when a shout came from Rogers.

"The rope--the rope!"

For a moment or two Syd stood there half-paralysed as he grasped the fresh trouble that had come upon them, and saw the explanation of Roylance's action. It was plain enough now: in the boatswain's headlong fall he had either loosened his hold of the end of the rope, or retained it so loosely, that as he clung to the rock for his life it had dropped into the waves, and by the time Syd quite realised what was wrong, Roylance had hauled it on board, and was standing with it in his hand, fully awake to the peril of his position, and seeing that no help could come now from the rock.

Syd's throat felt dry, and a horrible sensation of fear and despair ran through him as he stood there motionless watching his friend and companion drifting slowly away. Another minute and his position would be hopeless unless some vessel picked him up. So desperate did it seem that Syd felt as if he could do nothing. Then he was all action once more, as he saw what Roylance intended. His lips parted to cry out "Don't! don't!" but he did not utter the words, for it was Roylance's only chance; and all on the rock stood with starting eyes watching him as he seemed to be examining the rocky wall before him, and they then saw him turn his back, bend down, lift a loose coop, bear it to the side of the boat furthest from them, raise it on high, and heave it with a tremendous splash into the smooth sea.

Before Syd could more than say to himself, "Why did he do that?"

Roylance was back to his old place, had let himself down softly into the water, and was swimming hard for the rock.

"It was to attract the sharks," said a voice behind him, as some one else grasped the meaning of the act, and to Syd's intense delight he heard a panting sound, and another of the sailors came toiling up with a fresh ring of rope which he had been to fetch.

"Can you save Strake, Rogers?" shouted down Syd.

"Ay, ay, sir. I'll help him all right."

"Come on, then," panted the young mids.h.i.+pman, and setting off he led the way, climbing along the edge of the rock so as to get level with Roylance, who was rapidly drifting to the end of the rock.

"He is bringing the rope ash.o.r.e," said Syd to himself, as he saw the end in his companion's teeth; and they climbed on, encouraging each other with shouts, and steadily progressed; but as they climbed it was in momentary expectation of hearing a wild shriek, and seeing Roylance throw up his hands, as one of the ravenous monsters dragged him under.

And as they climbed to get level with him, Roylance swam steadily on through the clear blue water; and though every eye searched about him for a sight of some shark, not one was visible, though the back fins of no less than four could be seen gliding about in the neighbourhood of the floating hutch on the far side of the boat.

By making almost superhuman efforts the party on the rock managed to get abreast of Roylance just as he was half-way between the boat and a patch of rugged boulders which had seemed to promise foothold till help could reach him from above, and still the brave fellow swam on with the rope in his teeth, ring after ring slowly gliding out over the boat's side.

"Now," cried Syd, as he grasped mentally the spot where his companion would land. "A man to go down."

The sailor who had been his other companion on the day when Syd had attempted to explore the rock stepped forward, a loop was made in the rope, the man threw it over his head, and pa.s.sed it below his hips.

"Ready," he cried, and he was lowered down over the edge to be ready to give Roylance a helping hand, and try to make fast the line the latter was bringing ash.o.r.e.

"Ah!" shrieked Syd, suddenly, for it seemed to him that the end had come. For as he gazed wildly at his messmate, he saw that he was swimming with all his might, but making no way. Worse: he was being drawn slowly and surely out to sea, and the reason was plain; the rope that should have continued to give over the side had caught somewhere in the broken edge of the bulwarks, and all Roylance's risks and efforts had been thrown away.

"Let go, and swim for it!" yelled Syd, and Roylance answered by throwing up a hand.

"Can you see the sharks?" said Syd, half-aloud.

"No, sir, not yet," said one of the sailors. "They're cruising about the boat."

"Roylance--Roy! Let go of the rope and swim," cried Syd, in an agony of dread.

But the young middy turned on his back, loosened the rope all he could, and gave it a shake so as to send a wave along it. This had no effect, for it was too tight, and to the honour of those on the rock they saw him deliberately turn and take a stroke or two back toward the boat before giving the rope another shake. This time it had its due effect, for the wave ran along the line and s.h.i.+fted it out of the rugged spot where it had caught, so that it once more ran out freely as Roylance turned to swim for the sh.o.r.e.