While this was going forward, Toby and his companions were trying every means they could think of to get a rope carried to the wreck. Unfortunately they were unprovided with Captain Manby’s apparatus, or any other contrivance for throwing a shot with a line attached to it over a wreck, so that by the line a hawser might be hauled on shore. There were none of those excellent inventions—life-boats—in the neighbourhood, which are now, happily, stationed all along the British coast, and have been the means of saving the lives of numbers of human beings; even the coastguard officer and most of his men had gone that morning to a distance. Toby had, therefore, to trust to his own resources. The crew seemed utterly unable to make any effort to save themselves; indeed they saw that should they let go their hold, any moment they might be washed overboard and drowned. Toby had got a small keg, to which he fastened a line, and seemed to hope that it might be carried out by the receding wave towards the wreck, but though it went some way, another wave came in before it got far enough to be of any use, and sent it rolling back again with a coil of seaweed, mixed with sand and foam, on the beach. Toby next fastened a rope round his own waist, and seemed to contemplate the possibility of swimming off himself to the wreck, but the men round him held him back, persuading him that the risk was too great. He stood, evidently seeing that there was very little chance of success. Now another huge wave came foaming up. The crew turned their heads with a gaze of horror and alarm as they watched its approach. On it came, roaring loudly. All on board grasped with a gripe, in which the force of every sinew and muscle was exerted to the utmost, the masts and ropes to which they were holding. The wave struck the ship, shaking her huge hull to the keel, and driving her still further on the beach. One poor fellow must have had a less secure gripe than the rest, or else its fury must have been concentrated on him. It tore him from his hold, lifted him up, and as it passed over, he was seen struggling in the water. He struck out boldly. Now the roaring hissing sea carried him onward, then back again, now a side wave took him and drove him in the direction of the spot where Toby and his companions were standing. Toby signed to the men to hold the rope, and plunging in amid the foam, struck out towards the struggling seaman. Now they were separated, now they were brought nearer together. Now it seemed as if the stranger would be carried out, as had been the others, by the receding wave. But the brave fellow still struggled on. It was too evident, however, that his efforts were growing weaker and weaker. Toby sung out to him to encourage him to persevere. Toby got close to him, but just then a hissing wave went rolling back, the stranger threw up his arms in despair, and was buried beneath the foam. Toby darted forward and disappeared beneath the water.
“Oh, he is gone, he is drowned, our poor Toby!” exclaimed Digby, giving way to his feelings.
But Toby had only dived, and the next instant appeared grasping the body of the seaman, but was being carried at a fearful rate out to sea. His friends on shore hauled in, however, gently on the rope, and gradually drew him and the seaman towards them. Still, Toby had much to contend with; the sea tumbled about and broke wildly around him, and now the water would make a rush in one direction and then in another, rendering swimming almost impossible. At length the rocks were reached. Several of the fishermen who had fastened ropes to their waists, rushed into the sea to his assistance, and at length he and the nearly drowned man were hauled up on the rocks.
“Bravo! excellent, brave fellow!” exclaimed Mr Nugent, enthusiastically, “thank heaven, too, that the poor man is saved.”
Digby shouted with delight. “Oh, Toby is a grand fellow!” he exclaimed; in which sentiment he was joined by his fellow-pupils.
Meantime, Mr Nugent hurried off to be of assistance, if required, to the rescued man.
The escape of one of their shipmates seemed to give courage to the other people on board. Another man leaped off the wreck with a line, and boldly struck out for the rocks. Toby, notwithstanding his previous exertions, dashed into the sea to meet him, but whether or not he would succeed appeared very doubtful.
Meantime, another sea came rolling over the wreck. Directly afterwards, two human forms were seen struggling in the waves. Sometimes the sea carried them so close to the beach, that it seemed as if they could almost touch the sand with their feet; then out they were carried once more, and it appeared that they would be lost altogether. This was the more sad as Toby and the man, who had jumped off the wreck with the line, had almost succeeded in establishing a communication between it and the shore. One of the people got so close to them that they could see his features. He was evidently a lad, not so old as Marshall.
“I am certain I could get hold of him,” cried Digby, suddenly fastening the rope round his own waist in the way Toby had taught him. “Here, do you hold the rope tight.”
“I ought to go,” said Marshall, throwing off his jacket.