People were crowding to the rail at the extreme forward end of the ship.
Someone with authority was trying to push them back, using the
old-fashioned ship-board language to aid him. Chester drew near enough
not to be in the way, but so that he could observe what was going on. By
leaning well over the rail, he could see what appeared to be two persons
clinging to the anchor, which hung on the ship's side, about half-way
down to the water. One was a dark figure, the other appeared in the
moonlight to be a woman dressed in white. Other ships-men now rushed up.

"Clear way here! Where's the rope? Hang on, my man; we'll soon get
you"--this down the side of the ship. There came some words in reply,
but Chester did not hear them. A rope was lowered. "Slip the loop around
the lady," was the order from above. The man on the anchor tried to
obey. He moved as if cautiously and slowly. "Hurry, my man!" But there
was no haste. Limbs and fingers made stiff by long exposure and cramped
position, clinging desperately to prevent himself and his burden from
falling into the sea, were not now likely to be nimble; but in a few
minutes, which, however, seemed a long time, some words were spoken by
the man on the anchor, the command to haul in was given, and slowly the
nearly-unconscious form of a young woman was drawn up to safety.

"Now, my man, your next," shouted the officer. The rope soon dangled
down again, the man reached out a hand for it. The ship cut into a big
wave, whose crest touched the man below. He grasped wildly for the rope,
missed it, and fell with a cry into the sea. Chester tried to see him as
the ship rushed on, but the commotion and the darkness prevented him.

"Man overboard! stop the ship!" came from the excited passengers. "Man
overboard!" What could be done! The man was gone. He had not one chance