“There she is!” shouted a voice; and the life-boat was seen to slowly rise again, as a hoarse cheer arose—the pent-up excitement of the moment.
It seemed an interminable length of time before the life-saving vessel reached the brig, and what followed during the next half-hour could only be guessed at. So dark had it become that now only the tossing light on board the doomed merchantman could be seen, rising and falling slowly with rhythmical regularity, as if those on board were waving to those they loved a sad farewell.
Then at last a faint spark was seen for a few moments before it disappeared. Again it shone for a while and again disappeared.
“One of the lanthorns in the life-boat.”
“Coming back,” said Van Heldre hoarsely.
“With the crew, sir?” cried Leslie.
“Hah!” exclaimed Van Heldre slowly; “that we must see.”
Another long time of suspense and horror. A dozen times over that boat’s light seemed to have gone for ever, but only to reappear; and at last, in the darkness it was seen, after a few minutes’ tremendous tossing, to become steady.
The life-boat was in the harbour once again, and a ringing burst of cheers, that seemed smothered directly after by the roar of the storm, greeted the crew as they rowed up to the landing-place, utterly exhausted, but bringing with them two half-dead members of the brig’s crew.
“All we could get to stir,” said the sturdy coxswain, “and we could not get aboard.”