“He lies nearly in our course. In twenty minutes we shall reach him.”
Meanwhile Harry, scanning the sea anxiously, had caught sight of the Rubicon. A wild thrill of hope stirred his heart. Here, at last, was a chance of life. But would they see him? That was the momentous question. Had he anything by which he might attract attention?
He felt in his pocket, and drew out his handkerchief. Had it been dry, he could have waved it aloft. But it was dripping wet, and there was no wave to it. His spirits began to sink. But there was one encouragement: the packet was heading for him. Though he might not be seen now, he would perhaps be able to attract attention when the ship drew near.
Fifteen minutes passed in the most anxious suspense. How much depended on the next quarter of an hour! In that time it would be decided whether he should live or die. Already he could discern the figures of the passengers. Was it a delusion? No, a little girl was waving her handkerchief to him. He was seen,—he would be rescued! He became so weak, in the tumult of his sudden joy, that he released his hold of the plank which had been his safeguard, and, as it proved, his deliverance. But he recovered from his weakness, and with renewed energy clung to the plank.
Nearer and nearer came the Rubicon. He saw preparations for lowering a boat. The boat was in the water, and four sturdy sailors impelled it towards him with vigorous strokes. Five minutes later he was helped into the boat, and a little later still he clambered on board the Rubicon,—a silent prayer of thanksgiving in his heart to the Almighty Father for his providential rescue.
“Well, my lad,” said Captain Scott, advancing towards him, “you’ve had a pretty narrow escape. We don’t generally stop here to take in passengers.”
“Captain,” said Harry, earnestly, “I thank you for saving my life. I couldn’t have held out much longer.”
“No, I should think not. How came you in such a pickle? But I won’t ask you to tell the story now. You’re wet, and I suppose hungry.”
Our hero admitted that he was both hungry and thirsty, having been without food or drink for nearly twenty-four hours.
Luckily there was a boy on board, of about Harry’s size. Our hero was supplied with a suit of his clothes, which he found considerably more comfortable than the one he had on, which, having been subjected to the action of the sea-water for twenty hours, was about as thoroughly drenched as it was possible for clothes to be. After being provided with dry clothing, Harry’s other wants were attended to. A bowl of hot coffee and a plentiful supply of hearty food made him feel very much more at his ease.