'She's close on Ainslie Crag--I thought so!'
'The wind's gone down a bit now, hasn't it?' I asked.
'Yes, and the sea's a bit stiller just now,' he said. 'Give Jem a call,
Alick.'
Jem Millar hastened down to the pier with his arms full of rope.
'All right, Jem, my lad,' said my grandfather. 'Let's be off; I think we
may manage it now.'
So we jumped into the boat, and put off from the pier. It was a fearful
struggle with the wind and waves, and for a long time we seemed to make
no way against them. Both the men were much exhausted, and Jem Millar
seemed ready to give in.
'Cheer up, Jem, my lad,' said my grandfather; 'think of all the poor
fellows out there. Let's have one more try!'
So they made a mighty effort, and the pier was left a little way behind.
Slowly, very slowly, we made that distance greater; slowly, very slowly,
Mrs. Millar, who was standing on the shore, faded from our sight, and
the masts of the ship in distress seemed to grow a little more near. Yet
the waves were still fearfully strong, and appeared ready, every moment,
to swallow up our little boat. Would my grandfather and Millar ever be
able to hold on till they reached the ship, which was still more than
two miles away?
'What's that?' I cried, as I caught sight of a dark object, rising and
falling with the waves.
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