"She yet stands it!" he exclaimed, "but another such a blast will pitch it end foremost through our decks. Ho, my lads, which of you will take a couple of fathoms from the topgallant-halyards and go aloft and fish that stick?"
Many an eye was turned upward, but not a foot moved.
"A light lad will do it best. The spar must be saved where it is; for, if it falls inboard, 'twill make a hole through our decks big enough to let the ocean in. Be quick, lads!"
"I will do it, sir," said a young sailor, springing into the weather rigging, with a coil of rigging on his arm.
"That's my lad. You shall wear an epaulet for this."
With the eyes of the whole crew upon him, the intrepid young seaman ascended the rigging, though with much difficulty, as the wind pressed him so closely against the stays that he could scarcely climb from one rattling to another. After great peril he gained the top. Here, breaking from its latticed guard a couple of oaken slats, he swung himself into the topmast rigging, and, ascending to where the stick was splintered, commenced with great coolness, while the storm howled terrifically about him, to wind the rope about both it and the pieces of wood he had torn from the top. At every pitch of the vessel the wounded spar would gape wide, and threaten to carry him with it into the sea. But to the eyes of those below, who could plainly see him by the white light shed from the phosphorescent waves, he appeared to be as cool as if engaged in an ordinary duty on an ordinary occasion. After taking numerous turns about the mast till his rope was exhausted, he skilfully fastened the ends, and then, by a stay, descended like an arrow to the deck.
"What lad is that?" asked the captain, who had silently watched his labour.
"The fisher's lad," replied one.
"Gallantly done, my lad," said the captain. "This night has made thy fortune for thee, young man."
"I believe there is a vessel in sight, sir."