The first who passed from the wreck to the shore by means of this contrivance was a stout seaman with two very small children in charge. The man was sent partly to give the passengers confidence in the safety of the mode of transit, and partly that he might aid Edgar in the working of the tackle. The next who passed was the mother of the children. Then followed Aileen, and after her the sweet singer. Thus, one by one, all the females and children on board were borne in safety to land.
After these the male passengers commenced to go ashore. A few of the older men were sent first. Among them was Mr Hazlit.
The unfortunate merchant was so weak as to be scarcely equal to the exertion of getting over the side into the life-buoy or bag, and he was so tall that, despite the efforts he made to double himself together, there was so much of him above the machine that he had a tendency to topple over. This would have mattered nothing if he had possessed even a moderate degree of power to hold on, but his hands were as weak as those of a child. However, the case being desperate, he made the attempt, and was sent away from the wreck with many earnest cautions to “hold on tight and keep cool.”
You may be sure that his progress was watched with intense anxiety by Aileen, who stood close to Edgar as he hauled in the rope carefully.
“Oh! He will fall out,” she cried in an agony as the rope dipped a little, and let him just touch the roaring surf, when he was somewhat more than half way over.
Edgar saw that her fears were not unlikely to be realised. He therefore gave the rope to the seaman who had first come ashore, with orders to haul steadily.
Owing to its position and the dipping of the life-buoy with its burden, the cable formed a pretty steep slope from the shore. Throwing himself on the cable, Edgar slid swiftly down this incline until stopped by the buoy. The effect of course was to sink the machine deeper than ever, insomuch that poor Mr Hazlit, unable any longer to withstand the buffeting, threw up his arms with a cry of despair. Edgar caught him as he was falling over.
“Here, put your arms round my neck,” he cried, struggling violently to fix himself firmly to the life-buoy.
The merchant obeyed instantly, giving the youth an embrace such as he had never expected to receive at his hands! Even in that moment of danger and anxiety, Edgar could not help smiling at the gaze of unutterable wonder which Mr Hazlit cast on him through the salt water—if not tears—that filled his eyes, for he had not seen the youth when he jumped overboard.
“Haul away!” shouted our hero; but the words were stifled by a sea which at the moment overwhelmed them.