The man refused to do so.
“Stamp on his fingers, Heavitree!” exclaimed Mr. Grant, realising that if a calamity likely to become a fatality were to be avoided, drastic measures were absolutely imperative.
Heavitree was unable to carry out these instructions. All his efforts were concentrated upon an attempt to retain a hold on the boat and to prevent it sinking still further as the women strove to raise themselves out of the water.
Just then the partly submerged boat surged against the Kestrel’s side. The craven owner’s generous proportions acted as an animated fender, but the shock well-nigh winded him and caused him to relax his grip.
In a trice Talbot grasped him by his long hair and dragged him aft, where Craddock assisted in hauling the man on deck.
Meanwhile Brandon and Symington set to work like Trojans to tranship the badly scared women and children. They were not a moment too soon. The Kestrel was forging ahead.
“I can’t hold her much longer, sir!” exclaimed Heavitree.
“Let her go,” replied Mr. Grant briefly.
Heavitree disengaged the boat-hook. The swamped motor boat drifted astern. Bubbles of air were escaping from the uptilted fore-deck.
“Shall we have a shot at salving her?” asked Brandon.