Sidney no longer held the glasses to his eyes. It was possible to see everything plainly by this time, and, breathing heavily because of his excitement, the lad watched intently the movements of the boat, which now seemed to be close upon the rocks.
The man in the bow was standing up, having seen Mr. Peters' descent from the window, and understanding how a rescue was to be effected, if indeed such should prove to be the case.
Tossing on the crest of a wave, and then disappearing entirely in the trough of the sea, the dory pitched and staggered onward, coming as straight as an arrow for the tower, despite the plunging and rolling.
The man in the bow stepped toward the stern and appeared to be trying to drag the other to his feet; but it was as if he clutched one from whom life had already departed, and, with a gesture of despair, he went forward to the extreme bow.
Mr. Peters had made his way over the rocks to the very line of surf, and stood there until the moment should come for the supreme effort, while Uncle Zenas and Captain Eph watched his every movement closely, prepared to slacken the rope or haul in as should be necessary when the battle with the waves was begun. Nearly in the center of the room, but where he could see all that took place, Sidney stood, his eyes fixed on the boat while his hands were clenched as if by much straining of the muscles he might aid in the coming struggle.
Then the dory was raised high in the air by a huge comber, and Mr. Peters ran swiftly forward, knowing when that crest of water fell, the frail craft would be dashed upon the rocks.
There was an instant of agonizing suspense, and then the brave light keeper was lost to view amid the swirl of water and foam.
While one might have counted ten, neither men nor boat could be distinguished in the turmoil, and then came a sudden jerk on the line as the undertow carried Mr. Peters seaward, when Captain Eph shouted hoarsely:
"Haul! Haul for your life, Zenas!" and Sidney grasped the line, putting forth all his strength with the keepers, that their comrade might the more quickly be drawn to the surface.
The strain upon the rope seemed to be enormous; it was quite as much as the three could do to gather in any of the length, and Captain Eph was muttering half to himself that the line was not sufficiently large to bear the weight, when Uncle Zenas cried excitedly: