Baldwin looked anxiously at the lines, and went quickly to the speaking-tube, to which he applied his ear. A look of surprise mingled with the anxiety as he put his lips to the tube.
It was at this moment that he sent down the message before referred to, and received Edgar’s prompt reply.
“All right,” said Baldwin, turning gravely to his men, while a little gleam of intelligence and humour twinkled in his grey eyes. “When a man signals ‘all right,’ he must be all right, you know. Let ’em alone, but stand by and mind your signals.”
He had scarcely finished speaking when the man at Jem’s life-line gave a shout, and held on, as if to an angry shark.
“Hallo! Hi! Haul in. Lend a hand!”
He said no more, and did not require to, for willing hands came to the rescue.
In a few seconds poor Jem Hogg was hauled inboard, and tumbled on the deck, where he lay rolling about for some time, and kicking as if in a fit.
“Hold him fast, Bill! Off with his mouth-piece,” cried Baldwin, kneeling on the writhing diver; “why, what’s wrong, Jem?”
“Wrong?” gasped Jem, as soon as his glass was off; “wrong? Hey!—haul me up! Hi!—”
These exclamations terminated in a fearful yell, and it was plain that Jem was about to relapse into hysterics or a fit, when Baldwin, lifting him in his arms, planted him sitting-wise, and with some violence, on a seat.