“Put your hand on my shoulders,” said Owen, “and I will tow you up to the grating; just float, and do not attempt to help yourself.”
Nat did as he was bid, and at length Owen had the satisfaction of reaching the grating, which Nat at once grasped.
“Hold on tight, and do not struggle so as to exhaust yourself. The boat will soon come to pick us up. If you can keep your head above water that is all that is necessary,” said Owen.
But Nat had scarcely sufficient strength even to hold on. Owen, therefore, taking one of his hands assisted him to retain his hold beside him. The grating enabled them to keep their heads well out of the water, and Owen found that he could raise himself high enough up to look about him. Where was the ship? She appeared far away to leeward, but, as she had hove to, he felt sure that a boat was being lowered. Still it seemed a long time to wait; the wind was increasing and the sea was getting up. It would be a hard matter to hold on to the grating, over which the sea frequently washed.
“They won’t leave us, Mr Hartley?” said Nat; “it would be hard for you to have to die with me.”
“No fear of that,” answered Owen. “Do not give way; and see, there’s the boat coming.”
He was right. The boat which had been lowered on the lee side at that moment appeared from under the stern of the vessel, and pulled rapidly towards them.
Owen undid his handkerchief and waved it above his head. He had thrown off his cap before he had jumped overboard.
The boat, which was commanded by the second mate, was soon up to them.
“You did that well and bravely, Hartley,” said Mr Grey, as Owen was seated by his side supporting poor Nat, who was in a very exhausted state. “I did not know even that you could swim, and you are the only one who thought of jumping overboard to the poor lad.”