A great sea crashed against the house, bursting it in, roaring, smashing, and pouring like a Niagara into the saloon. The deck forward had gone under, the stern was rising high in the air, and the slanting deck told me there was not a second to lose.
The girl sprang up, and we dashed together to the taffrail, which was now fully twenty feet above the sea. There was nothing below but that life raft, the boats had gone to leeward to keep clear. Without a moment's hesitation, I dropped the girl into the sea, and sprang after her.
Hampered with my ragged clothes and oilskins, I could hardly swim a stroke. A rushing comber struck me, and I felt myself going down, unable to fight any longer. My breath was gone.
When I came to I was lying upon the life raft, and the girl was clinging to me with one hand, and passing one of the lashings of the raft with the other. It was black dark. Only the rushing seas about me told of our whereabouts; and the wild flings of the raft as it swept along with the rush made me aware of the present. I tried to see, raised my head, and felt very weak.
"I grabbed you and pulled you up," she said simply. "You were hit on the head by it—better tie yourself fast with that piece of cord, I can't hold you any longer."
I took a few turns of the side lashings of the raft about our bodies, and, as the seas washed us, I noticed that the water felt so much warmer than the air. We were clear of the sea a few inches, but each comber dashed over and soaked us, washing so heavily that it was necessary to hold one's head up in order to breathe freely.
"Did you see the boats?" I asked. "They'll pick us up presently."
"No; I couldn't see anything. I had all I could do to pull you on the raft. You're pretty heavy, you know. Then I had to hold you for what seemed an hour, but maybe was only a few minutes. Do you think they'll find us?"
"Sure. They wouldn't leave us. Ship went down, didn't it—rather sudden, and they had to let go. My men will stand by if it takes all night," I said.