'Pay out now, pay out!' cried Bland. 'Light out handsomely, my lads. It may come as too much dead weight for one man, which'll be a bad job if winch is froze.'
'It's for his life, and that's a three-manpower, aye, though yare should be just out of horspital too,' exclaimed a seaman.
'Pay out. Ease him all you can, lads,' shouted the mate.
The man had got hold of the end of the line, and was dragging it inboard hand over hand, bringing to him as he hauled the end of a stout rope, to which a little block was attached with a line rove through it. This was the gear the mate was calling upon the seamen to pay out handsomely. He was but one man to three, and the tackle and rope must needs grow heavier and heavier as its smoking steaming up-curving bight lengthened. I watched almost breathless; if the man's strength failed before his end of the rope came to his hand what should we do? We could not assist. Now indeed I saw it would be impossible for any one of us to scale those rugged crystal boulders and cavernous ruins of ice which yet from the level of the water painted a practicable ascent from the sheltered curve of the bay where the sea was silent.
Foot by foot the sailors veered out the gear, and hand over hand, with admirable endurance and patient courage, the man on the wreck hauled the stuff in: till on a sudden one of our men called out, 'The lady's helping,' and I caught a glimpse of Marie past the man, dragging as he dragged.
'It's all right!' after a long pause, exclaimed Bland, letting out his words in the note of a deep-chested sigh of relief, and a hearty cheer sprang from the lips of the seamen.
'He knows what to do. He's a sailor!' cried Bodkin.
He had vanished behind the bulwarks, but quickly reappeared signalling to us with a flourish, whilst Marie stood as before, motionless, watching.
'Now get it taut, for God's sake!' cried the mate. 'In with the slack.'