“The windlass has gone!”
Even as he spoke it seemed as if the heavy fabric, lifting such a height of side against the wind that it acted as a sail, literally leaped forward directly upon the life-boat.
“Stern all! Lively, boys! Lively!”
Benny laid all his strength against the huge oar, and yet he could not push it back so much as an inch; but his efforts might have been of some avail in connection with the quick, muscular work of the others, and the boat was forced out of the way only so much as was absolutely necessary. The failure of an inch in distance, and she must have been crushed by the ponderous weight which overhung her until Benny felt certain they would be swamped.
This necessary manœuvre exposed the life-boat to the full force of the wind, and before she could be brought round again, half-manned as she was, fully fifty yards of water separated her from the lighter whereon were the four life savers now turned mariners in distress.
Because no one of his companions spoke, Benny believed the danger which menaced his comrades on the hulk to be very great, and a sensation of faintness came over him as he thought that perhaps he might never again clasp the hands of those whom he had learned to love.
With a full crew on the life-boat it would have been a comparatively easy task to rescue the men from the lighter; but under the circumstances it was difficult work to even so much as hold her against the wind, and in the meanwhile the huge craft was approaching the breakers at a speed that must soon put her beyond reach of help.
“Put your very life into the oars, boys!” Downey cried appealingly. “We must lay her so near alongside that we can pass our comrades a rope, for we can’t hope to help them from the shore!”
Every one, including Benny, had been working to the full extent of his power, yet it seemed now as if still greater strength was laid on the oars, as Downey shouted to their comrades:
“Stand by for a line, boys! Make it fast, and come in on it. I see no other chance!”