"Ay, ay!" came from somewhere near the tower.
"Bring down that coil of rope, an' I'm thinkin' this 'ere lad'll need it before he makes a landin'!"
At that moment the bow of the boat came into view amid the fog, and Captain Eph shouted:
"Port! Port a bit, an' keep her in the channel! Hurry your stumps, Sammy, for we're like to have a nasty mess here."
Mr. Peters did not arrive on the scene a second too soon, for at the very instant he gained the keeper's side the little craft was thrown by a heavy wave against the jagged rocks, and the splintering of wood told that much damage had been done.
"Look out for this 'ere rope, an' have your wits about you!" Captain Eph cried as, hurriedly taking the coil from Sammy's hands, he flung with wonderful accuracy of aim the flakes across the shattered boat which was being carried by the swell against the rocks the other side of the narrow channel.
Now it was possible for the keeper and his assistant to see that the sole occupant of the disabled craft was a small boy, apparently not more than ten or twelve years of age, whose face told eloquently of the mental and physical suffering he had endured.
The lad sprang forward to seize the rope; but at that instant the boat was flung against the rocks, throwing him headlong, and but for the first assistant keeper he must have been carried out of the little cove by the receding waves.
Mr. Peters, understanding that if the boy's life was to be saved prompt action was necessary, leaped into the boiling waters as he flung one arm over the rope Captain Eph was holding.
The impetus of his leap was sufficient to send him through the water faster than the partially destroyed boat was being carried, and, grasping the stem with one hand and the rope with the other, he shouted: