Ned Garth | Page 3

then a voice hailed, and Edward shouted in return. A dark figure could be seen at the top of the cliff. It was Tom, who rapidly made his way down to where they stood, carrying a pair of oars and a coil of rope.
"The brig is driving in," cried Edward. "She's much nearer than when I first saw her."
"You're right," answered the lieutenant. "In spite of my timber leg, few men could once beat me at swimming; even now I've a mind to go off to the wreck. I might be in time to save some of the people. Here, Tom, hand me the end of the rope, and I'll make it fast round my waist, and do you and Ned pay it out, and haul in again when I shout to you."
"Don't think of going," said Edward; "you have been ill lately, and are not as strong as you were. Let me try. I can swim like a fish; you have often seen me in rough water as well as in smooth. It won't matter to any one if I am drowned."
"Won't it though! What would Aunt Sally say if I was to go back without you, Ned?" exclaimed the lieutenant. "I should never be able to look her in the face again."
"But I'll do my best not to come to harm," said Edward; "and you can haul me back if I cannot make my way through the breakers."
"Let me go, massa," cried Tom, rapidly throwing off his clothes, and beginning, without further ado, to fasten the rope round his own waist. "Jis see him tight--not a slip-knot, massa. Tom Baraka swim tro' worse seas dan dis on coast ob Africa, as you know. Stick de oar in de sand. Tie de rope to it, Massa Pack; you pay out, and off him go."
And before the lieutenant or Ned had time to speak another word, the black had plunged into the foaming seas, dragging out the rope which the lieutenant quickly uncoiled. His dark head and back could be distinguished amid the surging foam, as he made his way through the breakers for some distance, when a huge wave rolling in beat him back almost to the beach. The lieutenant hauled in the rope, fearing that Tom's legs might be entangled, but the brave black again sprang forward. He had, however, another danger besides the sea to encounter. Already broken spars, planks, and masses of timber, with bales of all sorts, were being hurled on shore, and a blow from some heavy piece of wreck might in an instant disable him. It seemed useless indeed to proceed further; not a human being was likely to have remained alive on the shattered wreck. Probably the larger number were drowned when the boat was upset. Another sea, still fiercer than the former, rushing on with a loud roar, again drove Tom back.
"We must haul in the rope," cried the lieutenant. "I cannot let the brave fellow further risk his life."
But once more it was found that Tom was dragging out the rope.
"I heard a cry, and I fancy I see some one not far from. Tom," exclaimed Edward. "Yes, yes! he is making towards the man. Ah, I fear he has missed him; no, he has hold of him. Haul away, uncle, haul away; let me go and help him, there's rope enough to spare," and Ned, securing the slack end of the rope under his arms and seizing the spare oar, dashed forward in time to grasp the man just as the black, exhausted by his exertions, was on the point of letting him go. Another wave breaking at the moment, and hissing as it rushed back in a sheet of foam over the beach, would have swept away the almost rescued man, but Edward, planting his oar deep in the sand, held on while the lieutenant was engaged in hauling Tom out of danger, hastening, the moment he had done so, to assist his nephew in landing the stranger. The latter still breathed, and attempted to raise himself from the sand, though unable to speak.
"You attend to him, Ned, while I look after Tom," said the lieutenant.
The black, however, required no assistance. He proposed, indeed, to again swim off on the chance of finding some other human being struggling for life; but this the lieutenant would not allow. Already the breakers were covered with masses of wreck, amid which not a single person could be seen, though they looked out eagerly, Tom pressing into the seething foam as far as he dared venture, while the lieutenant held up the lantern as a signal to any strong swimmer who might successfully have buffeted with the waves; but he did so with little hope of success. Every now and then he