away by the waves as the Wilmington rolled in the trough of the sea.
On came the Iroquois, though she was yet far away. “We are leaving immediately,” Henry signaled at the direction of Mr. Harris. “We have made some life rafts. Stand by to pick us up.”
When he had sent the message, Henry rejoined his commander on the after deck of the Wilmington, where all the men were now gathered. The bow of the freighter had sunk alarmingly. The big lifeboat still swung at the Wilmington’s davits, but these were peculiar, and held the boat so that every roll of the ship threatened to submerge the little craft. To save it from destruction, it was necessary to get it into the sea.
“Stand by to lower the lifeboat,” shouted Mr. Harris.
The boat was made free and brought even with the rail. Every member of the Wilmington’s own crew now on the ship piled into it. One sailor from the Iroquois leaped after them.
“Lower away,” called the executive officer at a favorable moment, “but be sure not to cut the painter.”
Yet no sooner was the little craft afloat than one of the freighter’s panic-stricken men whipped out his knife and severed the line that held her