"Here he is. Glory be to God! Are you right, sir?"
No answer.
"My God! are you sure, skipper?"
"Sure. Look!"
Ferrier saw an object like a mass of seaweed, but the night was so pitchy that no outline could be made out.
"Who durst try to pass a line under his arms?"
"Hand here, skipper; I will."
"Oh, Lewis! Keep nerve and eye steady. The graves are twenty fathoms below."
Lennard was inert, and no one could tell how he held on until he was flung on the deck.
"Lend us that binnacle lamp, Jim. Turn it on him."