It was plain enough now, the lifeboat was beyond the protection of the point; and its progress was watched as it rose and fell, slowly growing more distant, and at times invisible for minutes together.
At such times the excitement seemed beyond bearing. The boat, all felt, must have been swamped, and those on board left tossing in the boiling sea. The catastrophe of the wreck of the brig seemed to be swallowed up now in one that was greater; and as Leslie glanced round once, it was to see Louise and Madelaine clinging together, wild-eyed and pale.
“There she is!” shouted a voice; and the lifeboat 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 lifeboat.”
“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.