CHAPTER II.
A GALLANT RESCUE.
The next morning ushered in a blustering day, and the wind blew so hard as to make it decidedly uncomfortable for small boats in the harbor.
In the forenoon a boat was lowered from the Diomede to take Jack Bell and Dicky Stubbs ashore. Captain Forrester had seen the admiral, and had got permission to let Jack Bell remain at Newport in a merely nominal imprisonment, upon the ground of the old sailor’s age; and with many thanks Jack bade the captain good-by and got in the boat, with Dicky after him.
The boat was commanded by young Forrester, the captain’s son, and so like his father that Jack felt as if he had turned back many pages of his life, and it was the Midshipman Forrester of twenty-five years ago before him.
The captain’s gig had put off from the ship with the captain, bound ashore, and was far behind the midshipman’s boat. The young midshipman steered straight for the landing-place, but he knew nothing of the tides and currents of the harbor. The fierce wind was against them, and he suddenly found the boat too close to the shore, and fast nearing a ledge of sunken rocks, around which the waves were boiling. As he half-rose from his seat the boat lurched violently and he suddenly lost his balance; in another moment he was jerked overboard and disappeared. A cry went up from every man in the boat except Jack Bell. It was not a mere everyday fall overboard, but a fall amid sharp-pointed rocks and dangerous eddies. Before the echo of that cry had died over the water, Jack Bell had kicked off his shoes, peeled off his jacket, and had plunged into the icy water after the young midshipman.
Every movement was plain to Captain Forrester in his gig, only a short distance away; and his crew, in a moment, pulled furiously toward the other boat.
Jack Bell had dived exactly over the spot where young Forrester had disappeared. In a minute or two he came up, but alone. At this the agonized father covered his face and groaned. But after a few long breaths Jack dived again. This time when he rose a great shout went up—he had young Forrester in his arms.
In another minute he was in the boat, which headed for the nearest shore, closely followed by the captain’s gig. Just above where they landed was a lonely little cottage, and as soon as the keel touched the sand two powerful sailors seized the unconscious young midshipman and, led by Jack Bell and followed by Dicky Stubbs, rushed up the steep incline toward the cottage.
Captain Forrester was not far behind, but when he reached the cottage the little midshipman’s clothes had been stripped from him, Jack Bell was vigorously rolling, rubbing, and pounding him, while Dicky Stubbs and his mother—for it was the Widow Stubbs’ plain cottage—were wringing out hot cloths to put on young Forrester. Just as Captain Forrester entered, the young midshipman gave a loud gasp and opened his eyes, only to close them again.
“He’s all right, sir,” cheerily called out Jack Bell, not stopping in his rubbing. “He’s wuth all the dead reefers betwixt Newport and Chiny. He got a whack on his head from some o’ them jagged rocks, and he just fainted like—but he’s a-comin’ to fast, sir.”