“Boys, I—I’m dying!”
Gasping out these words, Bruce closed his eyes, and lay motionless.
A cry of dismay and terror burst from the schooner. Pallid faces, and eyes of horror, were turned toward the boat, which now, hurled on by the swift current, was borne farther and farther away, until at last it vanished from view in the fog.
VI.
Up Anchor and after them.—Blast of the Foghorn.—A long Search amid Mists, and Darkness, and Storms.
AS the boat drifted away from the schooner, horror for a time seemed to have struck dumbness into all on board. From this stupor Mr. Long was the first to rouse himself.
“Captain,” he cried, “we must up sail and after them.”
“Which way shall wo go?”
“After them any way. Follow the poor lads before they get any farther. Come, boys, up with the anchor! Corbet, up with your sails!”