Harry did not speak for a minute or two.
At last he put his hand on David’s shoulder, and said, “I ask you again to swim on shore by yourself. I will pray for you as you are swimming, and you shall pray for me when you reach the beach. My dear mother taught me to pray when I was a child, and she has ever shown to me that God hears all faithful prayers, and in His good time grants them; so that I have always prayed since I went to sea, both when I was turning into my hammock, and when I was turning out; and I knew that my mother was praying for me too, for she is always praying for me; and I know that God hears those prayers, so you see that makes me very brave. I am sure that I can trust Him.”
“I am so glad to hear you say that,” answered David. “My father was teaching us just the same thing after reading the Bible at prayers the other night. It’s true—it’s true, I know.”
“Then trust to Him, and do as I ask you,” said Harry, earnestly. “Take off your jacket and shoes at all events—you will be back in time to save them and me also.”
“I don’t like leaving you at all, but I will do as you wish,” exclaimed David, after a moment’s further thought, taking off his jacket. As he did so he turned his head round seaward. “Hillo!—why, there is a boat,” he exclaimed. “She is under sail, standing this way.”
The boys together sprang back to the highest part of the rock, and David still holding his jacket waved it vehemently. It was a small fishing-boat, beating up from the westward. She was then standing in for the land, and Harry, whose nautical knowledge was not as yet by-the-bye very great, was doubtful where she would go about again before she got near enough for those on board to see them. All they could do was to wave and wave, and to shout—though their shouting, shrill as it was, would have been of no use.
David, who really knew more about boat-sailing than his naval friend, expressed his opinion that she was beating up for the little boat-harbour of Penmore, about two miles to the eastward. How anxiously they watched her, as the tide sweeping her along she drew nearer and nearer! The wind, having—as the expression is—backed into the south-east, enabled her to lay up well along shore, or their hope of being seen would have been small indeed. For some minutes longer she stood on almost directly for them; then at length she went about—high time, too, for she was getting near the breakers. Now was the moment for them to shout and wave, for if they were now neither seen nor heard they must abandon their hope of help from her, as by the next tack she would be a long way to the eastward. How eagerly they watched her! Again and again they waved and shouted.
“Yes, see—she is about,” cried Harry, joyfully. He was right—the boat was evidently standing towards them. Harry, forgetting all past dangers, shouted and danced for joy. Life was very sweet to him. He thought nothing of the ordinary risk of losing it which he was every day running—but this was out of the way, and he had almost made up his mind that he should not escape. There were two people in the boat—an old man and a boy. The sail was lowered, and getting out their oars they approached the rock cautiously. It would have been excessively dangerous to get close, as a heavier sea than usual might have driven the boat against the rock and dashed her to pieces. This Harry and David saw. The old man stood up in the boat, and beckoned to them. He was shouting also, but the thundering noise of the sea against the rock prevented them from hearing him.
“He wants us to swim out to the boats,” said David. “I am sure that I could do it, and I will bring in a rope for you.”
“Oh, I do not think that you could,” answered Harry. “The sea rolls in so heavily that you would be driven back. They might let the end of a rope, made fast to a cork or a float of some sort, drift in, and haul us off.” The plan was clearly a good one, and they made signals to the old man to carry it out; but either he did not understand them, or had not a rope long enough.