"Ship's boat—yassir, dat's a ship's boat fo' shuah, cap," said the giant mate as the wrecking vessel drew nearer. "Must be some ob de wrack hereabouts—we better lay by en take a look eround, yassir."
"Let her luff a little," called Sanders to the man at the wheel. "Steady—so, let her go, jest so—steady—Good God! What—There's a man in her—"
"Stand by de jib sheet," roared Bahama Bill. "Yo' kin let her come to when yo' ready, sah—I'll stand by toe ketch him, sah."
The huge mate leaned far over the side of the Sea-Horse and with a mighty grip seized the floating small craft by the gunwale. She was half full of water, but he sprang into her and passed up her painter to a man on deck while the wrecking sloop plunged and bucked into the sea, her sails slatting and switching as she lay right in the wind. In a moment the mate had lifted the body and passed it aboard and the half-sunken small boat was dropped astern.
They poured water between his sun-baked lips and upon his swollen, livid tongue. In a few hours the corpse showed signs of life, but the blue-black face was motionless for days, and they had reached Jacksonville before the man's features relaxed enough for him to speak. He could not make himself understood, and it was three weeks later, when he was able to sit up in the cot at the seaman's hospital, before he could tell of his affair.
He was discharged as cured and went to his home. He had heard nothing from his wife and supposed she had heard nothing concerning him. When he entered the gate he noticed that all was silent about the place. A neighbour accosted him and asked who he was, but he was put out at the delay and refused to tell his business. Then the man told him how the news had come in that he had gone down in his ship nearly a month ago and that his wife had failed and died within a week.
He listened silently, and when the man finished he went into the house.
They found him dead that evening with a bullet-hole between the eyes.
"Crazy with grief," said the neighbours who knew his home life. The doctor who examined him thought differently.
"There is absolutely nothing abnormal about him," said the physician. "He looks like a man who has gotten tired out—clean exhausted with the futility of some great effort—look at his face."