He felt rather than heard a despairing cry; but did not know whether it had come from his lips or not.
Then a rushing dark cloud enveloped him, and with a fearful roaring in his ears, Jack’s senses swam out to sea.
“The light has disappeared, Metcalf. Do you think the poor lad is lost?”
Far below on the bridge, Captain McDonald, oil-skinned like his officer, peered upward.
“The good Lord alone knows, sir,” was the fervent reply. “It was a madcap thing to do. I should never have let him go.”
“It’s done now,” muttered the captain. “Though, had you consulted me, I should have forbidden it. That boy is the bravest of the brave.”
“He is, sir. You may well say that. A seasoned sailorman might have hesitated to go aloft to-night.”
“I wish to heaven I knew what had become of him and if he is safe, yet I wouldn’t order another man up there in this inferno.”
There was a voice behind him.
“Vouldt you accepdt idt a volunteer, sir?”