hesitated, grew meagre and ragged.

"I got a grip on him as he rose. He couldn't swim better'n a few
strokes at the best. (So many of our boys won't larn to swim--they
say it only lengthens things out when your time comes.) . . . The man
was drownin', but he had sproil enough to catch at me and try to pull
me under along with him. I knew that trick, though, luckily. . . .
I got him round on his back, with my hands under his armpits, and
kicked out for the _Maid in Two Minds_.

"'Tisn't easy to climb straight out o' the water and board a lugger--
not at the best of times, when you've only yourself to look after;
and the _Maid in Two Minds_ had no accommodation-ladder hung
out . . . But, as luck would have it, they'd downed sail anyhow and,
among other things, left the out-haul of the mizen danglin' slack and
close to the water. I reached for this, shortened up on it till I
had it taut, and gave it into his hand to cling by--which he had the
sense to do, havin' fetched back some of his wits. After that I
scrambled on to the mizen-boom somehow and hauled him aboard mainly
by his collar and seat of his trousers. It was a job, too; and the
first thing he did on deck was to reach his head overside and be
vi'lently sick.

"He couldn't have done better. When he'd finished I took charge,
hurried him below--my! the mess down there!--and got him into
somebody's dry clothes. All the time he was whimperin' and
shiverin'; and he whimpered and shivered still when I coaxed him into
his bunk and tucked him up in every rug I could find. There was a
bottle of whisky, pretty near empty, 'pon the table. Seein' how
wistful the poor chap looked at it, and mindin' how much whisky and