“Rest assured that if the captain is in yonder boat he will pity your condition, and not call your deeds to account,” said the surgeon, anxious to soothe the mind of the dying man.
The boat got nearer and nearer, when the surgeon recognised Walter steering, with Alice by his side, and the mate and Nub pulling. They were soon near enough to hail him.
“Thankful to fall in with you,” shouted Mr Shobbrok, who just then made out the surgeon and Tidy though he could not distinguish the boatswain. “Who’s that with you?”
The surgeon told him.
“Where are the rest?” was the next question.
“Gone! all gone!” was the answer.
“Heave us a rope, and we will hold on under your lee till the water is calm enough to take you on board,” cried the mate.
Tidy unrove the halliards, and made several attempts to heave the end on board the boat. At length she came in nearer, when he succeeded; and the rope being made fast, the boat floated back to a safe distance. Questions were now put and answered between them, but they could offer little consolation to each other. The surgeon had to acknowledge that they were without food and water. “If you can manage to send us a little, we shall be thankful,” he shouted out.
“We have scarcely enough for another day for ourselves,” was the alarming answer; “though we will share what we have when we get you on board.”
It was nearly noon before Mr Shobbrok thought it safe to haul up to the raft, when the surgeon and Tidy, exerting all their strength, and with the mate and Nub’s assistance, lifted the boatswain into the boat.