And now every eye was staring wildly, and with an intensity that showed how eagerly all watched for the next freight of the cradle.
“It’s hard work for the lad,” said Josh hoarsely; “and I’d give anything to be at his side. But he’ll do it if the ship hangs together long enough. Oh, pull, pull! Haul away, lads, haul!”
“He made me come—he made me come,” he cried frantically. “It was keeping the lad back to say I wouldn’t go first. I didn’t want to, lads, I didn’t want to.”
“No, no,” came in a sympathetic growl, as once more the wind lulled a little and there were symptoms of the gale being nearly over.
Then there was a groan, for Will made no signal.
“Hooray!” came from the men, as there was a sudden snatch, and the rope they were giving out was drawn rapidly. “He’s got it, he’s—got—”
The man who was joyfully shouting that stopped short as the rope ceased moving, and one, who was trying to use a telescope, shouted:
“The mizen’s over!”
“Then she’s gone to pieces, lads,” cried another.
“No,” cried the man with the glass; “part’s standing yet.”