daughter.

"Dear, dear Ruez," exclaimed Isabella, hysterically.

Dashing by the guard stationed on the quay, who presented arms as
his superiors passed, they reached its end in time to see, through
the now dim twilight, the efforts of some one in the water
supporting the half insensible boy with one arm, while with the
other he was struggling with almost superhuman effort against the
steady set of the tide to seaward. Already were a couple of seamen
lowering a quarter-boat from an American barque, near by, but the
rope had fouled in the blocks, and they could not loose it. A couple
of infantry soldiers had also come up to the spot, and having
secured a rope were about to attempt some assistance to the swimmer.

"Heave the line," shouted one of the seamen. "Give me the bight of
it, and I'll swim out to him."

"Stand by for it," said the soldier, coiling it in his hand and then
throwing it towards the barque. But the coil fell short of the mark,
and another minute's delay occurred.

In the meantime he who held the boy, though evidently a man of cool
judgment, powerful frame, and steady purpose, yet now breathed so
heavily in his earnest struggle with the swift tide, that his
panting might be distinctly heard on the quay. He was evidently
conscious of the efforts now making for his succor and that of the
boy, but he uttered no words, still bending every nerve and faculty
towards the stemming of the current tint sets into the harbor from
the Gulf Stream.