Roar on roar, volley on volley, sweep on sweep of crying water--so the
riot of the storm went on; the skipper waited helplessly like a dumb
drudge, and a hand of ice seemed to clutch at Ferrier's heart.
He went down to see Withers and found him patient as before.
"She du seem to have got a lot of water in her, sir. I never felt quite
like this since once I was hove down. Say, here, sir."
The man spoke with a husky voice.
"If so be you has to try the boat, don't you mind me. If you try to
shove me aboard you'll lose your lives. I've thought it round, and,
after all, they say it's only three minutes."
"But, my man, we won't leave you; besides, she's not gone yet. A tub
will float in a seaway; why shouldn't the vessel?"
"I knows too much, sir, too much. Excuse me, sir, have you done what
they call found Christ? I'm not much in that line myself, but don't you
think maybe an odd word wouldn't be some help like in this frap? I'm
passin' away, and I don't want to leave anything out."
Lewis slipped up on deck and signed for Larmor.
"Our man wants to pray. Don't you think we may all meet? You can do
nothing more than let the vessel drift. Leave one hand here ready to
show a flare, and come down." "I don't much understand it, sir; but Bob
and me will come."
Then, knee deep in water, the forlorn little company prayed together. I
do not care to report such things--it verges on vulgarism; but I will
tell you a word or two that came from the maimed man.
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