Mrs Brown misses the boat, and dips into the raging sea.
“Gone!” gasps Brown, struggling to free himself from Jones and leap after her, but the grasp of Jones is too much for him.
“Hold on, sir? she’s all right, sir, bless you; they’ll have her on board in a minute.”
“I’ve got bags, boxes, bucketfuls of gold in the hold,” roars Brown. “Only save her, and it’s all yours!”
The shrieking blast will not allow even his strong voice to reach the men in the lifeboat, but they need no such inducement to work.
“The gold won’t be yours long,” remarks Jones, with another smile. Neptune’ll have it all to-night. See! they’ve got her into the boat all right, sir. Now don’t struggle so; you’ll get down to her in a minute. There’s another lady to go before your turn comes.
During these few moments of forced inaction the self-possessed Jones remarks to Brown, in order to quiet him, that they’ll be all saved in half an hour, and asks if he lives near that part of the coast.
“Live near it!” gasps Brown. “No! I live nowhere. Bin five years at the diggings. Made a fortune. Going to live with the old folk now—at Blunderton, far away from the sea; high up among the mountains.”
“Hm!” grunts Jones. “Do they help to float the lifeboats at Blunderton?”
“The lifeboats? No, of course not; never think of lifeboats up there.”