"Wake up!" he cried. "Wake up!"
"What?" Archie responded, faintly.
Billy lifted him to his feet, but there was no strength in the lad's legs; he was limp as a drunken man. But this exertion restored Billy Topsail; he felt his own strength returning—a strength which the arduous toil of the coast had mightily developed.
"Stand up, b'y!" he shouted in Archie's ear. "Put your arm on my shoulder. I'll help you along."
"No," Archie muttered. But despite this protest he was lifted up; then he said: "Give me your hand. I'm all right."
Billy wasted no words. He locked his arms about Archie's middle, lifted him, and staggered forward against the wind.
The wind had fallen somewhat, and he made some progress. But the burden was heavy, and twice he fell. Then he heard Bill o' Burnt Bay's voice, and he shouted a response, but the wind carried the words away. He could hear Bill, who was to windward, but Bill could not hear him. So when the call came again, he marked the location and staggered in that direction.
"Oh, Billy! Oh, Archie!"
The voice was nearer—and to the left. Billy Topsail changed his course. The next cry came from the right again. Was the wind deceiving him? Or was Bill changing his place? Then came a ringing cry near at hand.
"Bill!" screamed Billy Topsail.