examination for his certificate in seamanship—who had been aloft bearing a hand in making the mizzen-topsail snug, the leech of the sail having blown out through the violence of the gale, was just on his way down the rigging again to see where he could be of use elsewhere, when he noticed the boy’s peril as quickly as the passenger; and, with one bound, he alighted on the deck.

In a rapid eye-glance he took in the situation.

Raised on the top of a curling wave, the fragments of the broken bulwarks and stanchions had got entangled with the wreck of the fore-topgallant mast, some twenty yards or so to leeward of the ship; and, clinging to the mass, Frank could see the boy holding on with a grip of desperation and terror, drenched with his ducking and the surf that washed over him, and with his mouth wide open as if yelling for assistance—although never a sound reached those on board for the roar of a giant could not have been heard against the wind.

Taking a turn of the signal halliards round his wrist, Frank Harness at once leaped into the sea and struck out gallantly for the boy; those on the poop cheering him as he cleaved through the foaming billows and quickly neared the wreckage, forgetful for a moment of their own immediate peril in the exciting scene before them, and waiting anxiously for their turn to assist the rescuer and the rescued on board again.

In the meantime, Mrs Major Negus—alarmed at the disappearance of her young hopeful from below, neither the steward or stewardess being able to give any account of him after searching the cabins in vain—had managed to scramble up the companion-way, nerved to desperation by the divine power of a mother’s love; and by some means or other she contrived to slide back the hatch and step out on to the poop-deck, where, holding on by the rail, she eagerly looked to the right and left in quest of Maurice.

Seeing the group on the lee-side gazing steadfastly at the scene in the water, she staggered towards them, clutching hold of the tarpaulin over the skylight to steady herself.

“My boy! my boy!” she exclaimed frantically. “Where is he? Oh, he’s lost,” she added with a piercing scream,—“fiends, monsters, are you going to let him drown before your eyes?”—and she made an effort as if to plunge overboard to where she could see the curly head of her darling rising just above the waves.

“Hold!” cried Captain Dinks kindly, grasping her arm firmly and drawing her back. “He’s being saved, and we’ll have him on board again in a minute. There, don’t you see, some one has plunged in after him and is just gripping him; we’ll have them up together as soon as he has made fast!”

“Bless him, the brave fellow!” exclaimed the poor lady, whose peculiarities and bad temper were now forgotten by all in sympathy with her natural alarm and anxiety, for she spoke in a voice broken with sobs and tears. “Who is he? I’ll fall down on my knees and thank him for saving my boy!”

“Frank Harness,” said the captain; “but I’m sure the gallant fellow will not want any thanks for doing a brave action! Look alive forward there!” he called out to the men in the waist, “and ease off those topgallant braces a bit and let the wreck drift alongside. So—easy there—belay! Another minute, and we’ll have them.”

Frank had reached the wreckage while Maurice’s mother had been speaking, and without an instant’s delay had looped the end of the signal halliards round the boy’s waist as he held on himself to the end of the topgallant yard, to which the lee braces were attached. A quick motion of his arm had then apprised Captain Dinks what to do, and in another minute or two the wreckage had been floated in under the ship’s quarter, and a dozen hands were helping the brave lad and the boy whom he had rescued up the side - Maurice, indeed, being hauled up by the bight of the signal halliards first.

His mother almost went into hysterics when he was restored to her, as if from the very gates of death; but her joy did not allow her to forget to thank his rescuer, which she did far more enthusiastically than Frank liked, with all the men looking on!

The gale continued raging with unabated force all that evening; but towards midnight it lulled sufficiently for some sail to be set on the ship, which was then kept more on her proper course.