“Are you a good swimmer, youngster?” asked the first lieutenant, the person who had seized hold of me.
“Not very,” I answered.
“Then stay aboard, or we shall be having to pick you up instead of saving the man who fell overboard. I know Pim well; he’ll take care of himself.”
Saying this, the lieutenant stepped in on deck again, taking me with him. While he superintended the lowering of the boat, I ran aft, and watched Tom and the drowning man. Just then I caught sight of the countenance of the latter, and to my dismay, I saw that he was no other than Larry Harrigan. The boats usually employed were away, and the one now lowered was not in general use, and consequently had in her all sorts of things which should not have been there. It appeared a long time before she was in the water. I watched my poor foster-brother with intense anxiety, expecting to see him go down before Tom could reach him. He was on the point of sinking when my gallant little messmate got up to him, and throwing himself on his back, placed Larry’s head on his own breast, so as completely to keep it out of the water. My fear was that Larry might come to himself and begin to struggle or get hold of Tom, which might be fatal to both. They were drifting farther and farther away from the ship. Tom had not uttered one cry for help, evidently being confident that the boat would be sent to pick them up. Every movement of his showed that he was calm, and knew perfectly what he was about. At length the boat was got into the water, the first lieutenant and four hands jumped into her, and away the men pulled as fast as they could lay their backs to the oars. It was blowing fresh, and there was a good deal of ripple in the harbour, so that the wavelets every now and then washed over Tom. Suddenly Larry, coming to himself, did what I feared; he seized hold of Tom, and in another instant would have dragged him down had not Tom dexterously got clear and held him up by the collar of his shirt. The boat was quickly up to them, and they were, to my intense satisfaction, safely hauled on board. She then rapidly pulled back to the ship, and both greatly exhausted, Larry being scarcely conscious, were lifted up on deck. McPherson, the assistant-surgeon, who had been summoned at once, ordered Tom to be taken below.
“Never mind me,” said Tom. “I shall be all to rights presently, when I’ve changed and had a cup of grog. You’ll let me have that, won’t you, McPherson? And now you go and attend to the poor fellow who wants you more than I do.”
“Vara true; he ought, from the way he fell, to have broken every bone in his body; and it’s wonderful he did not do it. He seems, indeed, not to be much the worse for his fall, except a slight paralysis,” he remarked when he had finished his examination. “Take him down to the sick bay, and I’ll treat him as he requires.”
I first went below to thank Tom Pim for saving my follower, and to express my admiration of his courage and resolution.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” he answered; “I can swim better than you, or you’d have done the same.”
I then went forward, where I found Larry—his wet clothes stripped off—between the blankets, in a hammock.
The doctor administered a stimulant, and directed that he should be rubbed on the side on which he had fallen.