"Keep dat pump workin'; keep it goin', I tell yo'," snapped the black mate, turning upon his man.
Heldron instantly turned away again, rapidly, sending the air below.
"Name ob de Lord—now whatcher make wid dat?" said Bill, looking at Sam.
"Gone fer sure," said Sam. "I wouldn't go down in them lead shoes for no money. I done knowed something like this would happen."
"I t'ink I don't need to give no more air, den," said Heldron.
"You turn dat pump, yo' blamed Dutchman, or I'll turn yo' hide wrong-side out, yo' hear me," snarled the mate. "Gimme a heavy line, Sam; gimme something I can't break—jump, yo' Conch!"
"Goin' after him?" asked Sam, hauling the end of the mainsheet clear to the rail. "I don't think you kin get him. Better leave him down; them shoes is enough to hold him. I'd hate to lose the cap'n, but he's gone for sure!"
The huge form of the mate balanced for an instant upon the rail. He cleared enough line to take to the bottom, and had Sam stand with coils of it ready to pay out. Then down he went with the end of it, swimming strongly for the hole in the bilge of the brig. The opening showed before him, but he hesitated not a moment. He swam straight into the black hole, butting his head against the carlines under the half-deck, but keeping straight as he could for the diver by following the air-hose with his hand.
It was a long swim to the place where Smart lay. A full minute had been taken up before the mate felt the contact of the metal helmet. He passed the heavy line under it, but found his wind giving way under the strain. Quickly following the air-hose out, he struggled for the clear water, and came to the surface with a blow like a grampus. He had been down two minutes and a half.