The board was pushed toward him, while Dave made a rapid count.
"All up but Mr. Page;" muttered Dave, but even that thought made him sick at heart.
Only a few moments had passed, but that was time enough for any man to come to the surface if his buoyancy remained.
Darrin had paid no heed to Mr. Salisbury or the latter's engineer, for he had seen them jumping for their life-preservers.
In the meantime the other boats of the sailing fleet were making for the scene of the disaster. Yet, with the light breeze, that was no easy thing to do. It would take some time yet to bring the nearest of the sailing fleet to the scene.
Signals had been sprung to the steam-launch fleet, but the launches were far down the bay, and many minutes must pass before relief could be looked for from that quarter. Two or three of the sailboats would, in fact, be at hand first.
Though there were some excellent swimmer among the wrecked midshipmen, the best of these were already standing by midshipmen who did not swim well. Dave Darrin was the only one free to go to Page's assistance should he show up.
"Every man keep his eyes peeled for Mr. Page!" shouted Dave. "We simply can't stand the loss of any member of the crew!"
"There's a hat!" cried Dan, a few moments later. "Can you make it out, sir."
Dalzell was pointing further down the bay.