The sailors, however, wanted no such stimulus. They exerted themselves bravely, and were quickly in the midst of between twenty or thirty swimmers, struggling in the waves and shouting for assistance. The light in the boat not only showed to the drowning men the near approach of the aid they required, but directed its crew to the places where they could be of most service.
“Help! help!” screamed one, with the water gurgling in his throat.
“Save me, or I sink!” cried another, nearly exhausted by his struggles.
“Here! here! here!” shouted a dozen voices in different directions. Among the most active in the rescue was Oriel Porphyry, who was so fortunate as to save many who were on the very point of sinking; and being well seconded, with great difficulty and at considerable risk they succeeded in hauling into their boat fifteen, many of whom were more dead than alive; but the rest they saw engulphed in the waters before they could reach them.
“Hollo!” exclaimed Hearty, in a tone of wonder and disappointment, as the crew were about to return. “Where’s the ship?”
Not a vestige of the Albatross was visible, and nothing was seen before or around them but impenetrable darkness.
“May I be food for fishes, if this arn’t a pleasant look out,” observed Climberkin.
“Surely they’ll burn a light,” said Oriel Porphyry.
“I’ve my misgivings on that ’ere head,” muttered Hearty.
“But how can we get back to the ship without?” inquired the merchant’s son.