Seton's first sensation of the plunge was that of intense cold. The moment he felt himself off his feet he struck out to clear the wreckage. In spite of his efforts he found himself being drawn back as surely as if he were held by a chain. Down, down, down! Would the horrible descent never end? He held his breath, struggling the while to force himself to the surface. Already his lungs felt on the point of bursting.
"Good heavens! I'm foul of something," was the thought that flashed through his mind.
It seemed like an eternity, that slow and remorseless suffocation in the icy-cold water. His eyes were wide open, but he could see nothing. Involuntarily he gasped; an inrush of water followed; a moment of intense irritation, and then a period of utter insouciance. His senses were deserting him. In a vague sort of way he realized that he was drowning.
Suddenly the downward movement was arrested. Caught by the upward rush of air from a burst compartment Seton was impelled to the surface with incredible speed. He was conscious of being shot almost clear of the water, of a rush of life-giving air into his partly water-logged lungs; then of striking out almost automatically.
The sea was horribly cold. Hampered by the weight of his clothes, for, with the exception of his great-coat and sea-boots, he had "taken to the ditch" fully-clad, it was a hard struggle for Seton to keep himself afloat.
With a noise like a small pistol-shot the water hitherto pressing against his ear-drums dispersed, and his sense of hearing was restored. Above the hissing of the waves he could hear shouts of encouragement and cries for aid from his struggling shipmates. There were swimmers all around him. Some men were clinging to oars and pieces of floating wreckage. Others were supporting their less robust comrades, while a few dauntless spirits were singing, or rather trying to sing, in order to convey the impression that they still had their "tails up".
Someone pushed an empty water-beaker almost in Alec's face, with a jerky invitation to "Hold on to that, chum."
"Thanks," gasped Seton breathlessly.
"Lumme, if it ain't our sub-lootenant," exclaimed his benefactor. "Goin' strong, sir? Shall I stand by and give you a hand?"
Seton was glad of the moral assistance, although he continued to hang on to the barrel with little effort. For some moments neither man spoke.