"It's a little boy! It's a little boy!" cried Pat, in an agony of sorrow and fear. "Oh, father! Oh, Jim! Will he be killed? Will he be killed? Oh, don't let him be killed! Don't let the waves dash him on the rocks! Oh, what can we do? What can we do?"
Eileen covered her eyes with her hand as though to shut out the sight of the thing that seemed as though it must happen. It would be too frightful to see that little frame dashed in pieces before their eyes, even though life might be already extinct. Pat was clinging to her dress in an agony. Nat's voice shook as he made reply to his child—
"I'm afraid he's dead already, Pat. He may have been hours in the water with the waves dashing over him. The life is soon beaten out of a strong man like that. A little child could scarce live half-an-hour."
"Oh, save him! save him!" cried the child, his voice rising almost to a shriek. "Oh, I don't believe he's dead! See, his head is quite out of the water—only when the waves wash over it. I don't believe he's dead. Oh, don't let him be killed! Save him! save him!"
Nat shook his head sadly. He gave an expressive glance at his wife, and she gathered her own child in her arms and sank upon her knees, weeping and mingling prayers and supplications with her tears. Nat stood perfectly still and rigid, his gaze fixed upon the spar which carried the body of the child—whether living or dead none could tell—towards those cruel rocks which (if dashed upon them) would surely tear it in pieces before their very eyes. It was a moment that none of those ever forgot who had taken part in it. And only some minutes later did they observe that Jim had moved, and was no longer with them.
Pat was the first to note this. He raised his white, tear-stained face from his mother's shoulder, and looking round quickly, asked with sudden eagerness, as though some new idea had struck him—
"Where is Jim?"
That made them all look round, and then they all saw that Jim had gone within doors, and that he was now issuing forth with a life-belt round him, to which was attached a long coil of strong rope. He had taken off his coat, his boots, and leggings, and had nothing on but his shirt and trousers, which last was rolled up to the knee. He looked a very strong, muscular fellow as he stood rolling up his shirt sleeves, his face set in lines of the most dogged and resolute determination. Pat gave a little shriek, and rushed forward towards him.
"Jim! Jim! what are you going to do?"
Nat and Eileen had also come forward, and Nat laid his hand on his assistant's shoulder—