"Yes, Master d.i.c.k; Josh helped me," said Will, smiling. "There's two or three hundred fathom."

"But was it not very risky, my lad?" said Mr Temple, shouting like the others, for the noise made by the sea was deafening.

"Risky, sir? Oh! you mean the waves! There were plenty there to lend a hand, and if we'd been caught they'd have thrown us a rope," said Will, simply.

"Some boat has been lost, hasn't there?" cried d.i.c.k, excitedly.

"Saint Ives boat, we think," said Will; "and a timber ship has been wrecked somewhere out Lizard way. There'll be a lot of balks and planks come ash.o.r.e, the men think."

"I say, Will, is it often as bad as this?" said Arthur eagerly.

"Yes, sir, very often," replied Will. "Old Pollard thinks it will be worse to-night. I should go down to yonder house, sir, if I was you; the young gentlemen would be more in shelter, and you could see the wreck wood come in and the men draw it up, better there, for it's nearer to the sea."

"How do you know it will come there?" said d.i.c.k hastily.

"The current. Tide washes it up. We always find wreck come about there."

Will hurried away, his mission being to fetch another boat-hook; and taking the hint, Mr Temple and his boys made a dash across the rock and sand to the pilchard-house further east, the wind blowing in a furious squall now, and just as they were half-way, battling against the spray that cut their faces till they tingled, their numbers were diminished one third, though Mr Temple did not know it, and then two thirds.

He had bidden his boys follow him closely, and then with bent head run forward, d.i.c.k and Arthur following as fast as their stiff clumsy garb would allow; but just as they were half-way and were caught by the full force of the gale, Arthur, who was last, made a swerve, gave way a little more and a little more, and then was literally carried sh.o.r.eward by the gale in a staggering run, for he had found it impossible to resist its force.

"Don't it blow!" panted d.i.c.k. "Lean your head over towards it, Taff, and then it won't cut your face. Come along."

He spoke loudly, but every word was swept away by the wind; and if sounds do not melt away, his were taken straight over England and the North Sea to Denmark, and then over the Baltic to the Russ's land.

"Here, give me your hand, Taff," he cried directly after, and turning a little more he held out his hand to lend his brother a little help.

Confused and deafened as he was by the storm himself, he burst out into a roar of laughter at the sight of his brother literally running before the wind in the most comically absurd manner, till, finding a dry spot, he flung himself down in the soft sand, sad clung there with all his might while d.i.c.k scudded to him and plumped down at his side.

"Here's a game!" he roared into Arthur's ear.

"A game!" faltered the latter; "very--dread--ful--isn't it?"

"No," shouted d.i.c.k. "It's all right. Come along. No, no. Turn your back to it."

"The rain cuts so," panted Arthur.

"'Tain't rain; it's spray. Hook hold tight," cried d.i.c.k. "Ahoy!

Coming!" he shouted, wasting his breath, for it was impossible for Mr Temple to hear. "Here comes father after us. Now then, stoop down and let's do it. Whoo! Knees."

They threw themselves on their knees to avoid being swept away, for just then a sudden puff came with such violence that, as d.i.c.k afterwards described the sensation, it was like being pushed with a big ball of india-rubber.

Mr Temple came with the rush of wind, and as he stopped beside his boys he confessed that it was as much as he could do to keep his legs.

It was only for a few moments that the storm had such tremendous force.

Then it lulled a little, and taking advantage of the comparative calm, Mr Temple took hold of his boys' hands, and the three with bended heads trotted towards the shelter on ahead.

They had not been long under the lee of the pilchard-house before they saw Will return and stand with Josh and some more of the fishermen just beyond the reach of the waves. Then first one and then another made a rush at what looked at a distance like a piece of wood, tossed here and there by the great billows. Into this they struck the boat-hook, and ran with it sh.o.r.eward, the piece of wood which looked so small proving to be a deal that was a pretty good weight for two men to carry.

Quite a stack of these were dragged from the waves, some perfectly uninjured, others snapped in two, others again twisted and torn asunder, leaving long ragged threads of fibre, while others again were regularly beaten by the waves and rocks, so that the ends were like bunches of wood gnawed by some monster into shreds.

They went back to dinner and returned towards evening, Uncle Abram giving it as his opinion that the worst of the gale was not over yet, and pointing to the gla.s.s that hung in the pa.s.sage for corroboration.

"Lower than she's been for months," said the old gentleman. "I hope no ship won't get caught in the bay."

_Boom, bom_!

"What's that?" cried Mr Temple quickly.

"It's what I hoped would not happen, sir," said the old man, taking off his hat; "a ship in distress, and may--"

He did not finish his sentence aloud, but closed his eyes, and they saw his lips move for a few moments, before, clapping on his hat again, he cried:

"Let's go down to the beach, sir. 'Tisn't likely, but we might be able to do some good. Ah! there she is speaking again."

_Boom, bom_!

The hoa.r.s.e echoing report of a large gun heard plainly above the roar of the storm, and hastily putting on his great yellow oilskin coat, old Uncle Abram led the way towards the sh.o.r.e.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

A BRAVE ACT FOR A DARING MAN MAY BE HEROISM IN A GALLANT BOY.

"There she is, Master d.i.c.kard, sir," shouted Josh, as the little party reached the sh.o.r.e down by the pilchard-house, and he pointed out over the foaming sea.

"I can see nothing but mist," said d.i.c.k excitedly.

"That's the foam," said Josh; "but I can see her plain--three-master-- quite a big ship."

"Will she get into the harbour, Josh?" said d.i.c.k, with his lips to the fisherman's ear.

Josh looked at him solemnly and then shook his head.

"One of our luggers couldn't do it, Master d.i.c.k, with a wind like this, let alone a big ship."

"What will happen then?" cried d.i.c.k excitedly.

"Rocks--go on the Six Pins, I should say. That's where the current'll take her--eh, master?"

Uncle Abram was holding his long telescope against the corner of the pilchard-house, and gazing attentively through it at the distant ship.

"No, Josh, my lad," he said; "there's too much water on the Six Pins even for her. She'll come clear o' them and right on to Black Point."

"And then?" said Mr Temple anxiously.

"We shall do what we can with the rocket-line if the masts hold good for a bit, sir."