Incessantly the waves dashed in Henry’s face, blinding him. But he kept his mouth shut and quickly learned to breathe guardedly, so he swallowed little more water. Before him he could dimly distinguish the great black bulk of an anchored ship. Even at the risk of being swept seaward, he decided that he would try to swim to it.
Had it not been for his wet clothing and his shoes, which felt like lead, Henry might have been able to make it. But his garments held him back terribly. And so, though he continued to make headway, he was swept swiftly along with the tide, out toward the open sea. From time to time he shouted and waved a hand aloft, trying to attract attention. All at once he realized that he could never gain his goal, and the thought struck sudden terror to his heart. Still he struggled on, but his strokes grew feebler and feebler. His vision became so confused he could not see anything clearly. He was so utterly tired as to be almost exhausted. Indeed, his movements had become almost mechanical, and he had all but lost consciousness when he was startled by the sharp clang of a bell and the noisy churning of water close at hand. Then something took him by the coat-collar and he felt himself being bodily lifted out of the waves. Again the bell clanged sharply, once more a propeller churned the waters, and he felt himself moving swiftly over the tide.
It was a full minute before Henry could clear his brain and wipe his eyes clean, so that he could see. He found himself in a powerful little motor-boat, quite evidently built for use at sea, that was now scudding along under full power direct toward the little white Coast Guard cutter. Straight at the cutter charged the little craft. When it was only a few yards distant, the bell clanged once more, the propeller ceased to revolve, the little boat’s head came sharply about, and in another moment the craft was resting beside the ship’s ladder.
“Can you make it alone?” asked one of the sailors in the boat, as Henry rose to his feet and stepped on the landing-stage of the cutter.
“Sure,” said Henry, who was already recovering his strength.
“Then up with you, quick.”
“All right,” answered Henry, “but first I want to thank you men for saving me. I couldn’t have kept afloat much longer. You got to me just in the nick of time. I don’t know what to say, to make you understand how I feel.”
“Forget it,” smiled the sailor, “and hustle aboard. You’ll get pneumonia if you stay there in the wind.”
Henry turned and started to mount the ladder. He noticed that one of the sailors was close behind him, apparently ready to support him if he needed help. But Henry was not now in need of assistance. His strength was increasing every minute. He grasped the ladder-rail and mounted upward, and when he looked ahead of him, he saw that the cutter’s rail was lined with faces. Apparently the entire crew had been watching the rescue.
As he reached the deck, Henry looked about him. Dozens of sailors, in their strange blue uniforms, were gathered forward of the ladder. And just aft of it stood a group of officers, looking very brave and trim in their blue uniforms, with their gold-braided caps and their gold-embroidered sleeves and shoulders. The captain looked especially fine. He was a heavy-set man with a ruddy countenance. His uniform gave him an air of real distinction. Somehow, his face looked familiar to Henry, but it was not until the man spoke that Henry knew who he was.