Turning on his back Terence began to fumble with his footgear. His fingers had little or no sense of feeling.
"All right, sir; hold up—I'm coming. You're saved," shouted a voice.
Swimming towards him and pushing a lifebuoy was Stairs, the bluejacket whose gratitude he had gained by letting him off with a caution instead of putting him in the captain's defaulter's book. The devoted man, seeing Terence blown over the side by the explosion of a hostile shell, had without hesitation seized a lifebuoy and had plunged into the sea with the laudable intention of either saving his officer or sharing his fate. Swift though he was in making up his mind, the "Livingstone" had put a hundred yards or so between her and Terence ere the man took the fateful leap.
Swimming strongly, and pushing the buoy before him he took nearly five minutes in getting within easy hailing distance of his superior officer. Even in that moment of peril, when he realized that the chances of the pair of them were most remote, Stairs was governed by the regulations.
"'... approach the drowning person, assure him with a loud and firm voice that he is safe,'" he repeated to himself. "It's a blessed lie, but regulations is regulations, so 'ere goes. All right, sir; I'm coming. You're saved."
Had Stairs continued to act strictly in the spirit of the before-mentioned regulations, he would have proceeded to "take fast hold of the hair of his head, turn him, as quickly as possible on his back, give him a sudden pull and this will cause him to float." But fortunately the seaman, having committed one absurdity, wisely refrained from doing another. Seeing that Terence was afloat, he contented himself with pushing the lifebuoy into his grasp.
"What on earth possessed you to jump overboard?" asked Aubyn.
"Never you mind, sir, beggin' your pardon," replied Stairs. "Keep your precious breath, sir you'll be wanting it afore long."
The advice was sound, for by this time two more destroyers had passed, one on either side of the submerged men, and the turmoil of the water as they tore past had the effect of stopping any attempt at conversation. Well it was that Aubyn had hold of the lifebuoy, otherwise the buffeting of the waves would have sent him under—perhaps for the last time.
Just then a large object shot up from under the water about fifty feet from the two men. It was part of a British whaler, possibly abandoned previous to going into action, or it may have floated from one of the torpedo-cruisers during the earlier stages of the war.