Snatching a lifebuoy, my uncle rapidly bent a stout grass line to it, and held it up for the unfortunate yachtsman to see, for shouting was useless. In another moment the "Fortuna," which was tearing through the water like a racehorse, had left the disabled craft far astern.
"Lee ho!" shouted the bos'n, and with a loud flapping of canvas the "Fortuna" ran up into the wind, and, drawing on the other tack, ran back on her errand of mercy. In spite of the sheets being slacked well off, our stout little craft rushed towards the unfortunate yacht, our intention being to pass as close to windward of her and as slowly as possible, and to try and pick up the stranger with the lifebelt, for any attempt at luffing would entail great risks to us should the "Fortuna" drift or fall foul of the almost waterlogged craft.
It seemed but a few seconds before we were again abreast of the disabled yacht. My uncle, springing on to the lee bulwarks and steadying himself with his left hand round the shrouds, poised the lifebelt with his right, and prepared to make a cast.
"Jump for it! We'll pick you up!" shouted the men in a chorus, for we were passing within a few yards of the stranger.
The man stood upright, and made ready to spring, but at the crucial moment he hesitated, and the opportunity had passed. Even as he returned to his former position in the cockpit, the little craft flung her stern high out of the water, and with a splash and a turmoil of escaping air she disappeared beneath the waves.
There was a general groan of dismay from the crew; then suddenly I heard my father shout, "What's that man doing? Stop him, you fellows!" But, before any one could raise a hand, one of the crew had torn off his oilskins, flung a lifebelt overboard, and had plunged in after it.
Instantly there was a rush towards the whaler. The crew stood by the falls and waited for the order; but my father, glancing at the mountainous waves, bade them desist.
"They must take their chance," he shouted. "The boat could never live in such a sea. Up aloft one of you and keep a bright look-out. Lee, ho! Hard down with your helm!"
The "Fortuna" flung about on the other tack, and with the ropes coiled ready to throw to their comrade and the unfortunate yachtsman, our crew anxiously awaited their opportunity.
One man with the agility of a monkey had swung himself aloft, and was perched on the crosstrees. He shouted, but his voice was inaudible, though by his gestures we knew that one at least of the men had been sighted.