Читать книгу Dick Rodney; or, The Adventures of an Eton Boy онлайн

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"Don't fear, my lad," cried others; "we'll pick you up."

But I was powerless, blinded by spray; and though unable to respond, clutched the rattlins with fatuous energy. Then strong hands were laid upon me, and I felt myself dragged into the boat.

"Shove off, shove off—give way! this craft will sink in a minute," cried some one; "give way for the brig!" and just as they turned the head of the boat toward their vessel, the Dutch schooner appeared to right herself; there was a crash as her deck burst up, and then a sob seemed to mingle with the air that was expelled from her hold as she filled and went down like a stone.

Though I had been so long unseen, I afterwards learned that at this time there were not less than fifteen sail in sight of the vessel which picked me up.

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After being conveyed on board, hot brandy punch was readily administered to me; all my wet clothes were taken off, and I was put into a snug berth, the cosy warmth of which, together with the effect of the steaming punch—"a stiff nor'-wester," as I heard it called—and the toil and misery, mental and bodily, I had undergone, all conduced to give me a long and almost dreamless slumber. Thus the noon of the next day was far advanced before I awoke to the realities of life and a consideration of the awkward predicament in which I was placed.