“You’ll be drowned, sir!” I heard Thankful Polk cry.
“She’s going down—she’ll suck us all under,” declared Bob Promise.
“Stand by, as I tell you!” commanded the second mate again.
In a moment he had fastened the boathook somehow, and went up hand over hand. He seized the rail of the sinking ship. The small boat backed away. I believe Bob Promise thrust her off with his oar.
“Look out there!” bawled Captain Bowditch, from our poop. “You’re taking your life in your hand, lad!”
Mr. Jim Barney merely waved his hand, notifying the master of the Gullwing that his warning had been heard. But he crawled right up to the stern over that wreckage. He did not look back once.
And down settled the Seamew, lower and lower. She was under seas as far back as the stump of the mainmast. The water boiled around her. There was good reason for our men in the quarterboat to back off. Once caught in the suck of the sinking ship, our men and their craft would go under, too!
I saw Mr. Jim Barney spring over a pile of debris. He stooped, tore away some of the wrecked stuff, and then stood up with his brother’s body clasped in his arms.
For an instant I saw the white face of the unconscious man. There was a streak of crimson on his forehead. Jim Barney looked down into the countenance of his brother and the men in our quarterboat uttered in chorus a long-drawn cry. The Seamew was going down.
Slowly, the eddying water seething about her wounded hull, the ship settled.