The sailors thought it too, for they began to give way, when suddenly a great brown hand appeared and clasped the stern-sheets, while a bull-voice roared: "Row on, lads, I'm right enough." Row they did indeed, till the ashen oars bent like bows, only two of them seized the officer who had sprung into the boat and flung him screaming into the river, where he struggled a while, for he could not swim, gripping at the air with his hands, then disappeared.

The boat was in mid-stream now, and shaping her course round the bow of the first hulk beyond which the prow of the _Margaret_ began to appear, for the wind was fresh, and she gathered way every moment.
"Let down the ladder, and make ready ropes," shouted Peter.
It was done, but not too soon, for next instant the boat was bumping on their side.

The sailors in her caught the ropes and hung on, while the captain, Smith, half-drowned, clung to the stern-sheets, for the water washed over his head.
"Save him first," cried Peter.

A man, running down the ladder, threw a noose to him, which Smith seized with one hand and by degrees worked beneath his arms.

Then they tackled on to it, and dragged him bodily from the river to the deck, where he lay gasping and spitting out foam and water.