The boats were too far away now for us to see much of what was going on, the heads of the men growing blurred, but we saw that they were zig-zagging across the tide, and we listened in vain for the hail and the cheer that should accompany the words-- "Got him, sir!" The buzz of conversation among the men, who clustered on deck, in the shrouds and tops, grew fainter, and I was thinking whether I was very much to blame, and if I could in any way have saved the poor fellow. Then I began thinking of the men in the forecastle, and their punishment for being the cause, in their boyish way of playing tricks, of the poor Chinaman's death. I wouldn't be Tom Jecks for all the world, I muttered, and then I turned cold and shuddered, as the hope, faint though it was, of Ching being picked up went out like one of the lights that now disappeared; for Captain Thwaites said sadly-- "I'm afraid we must recall the boats, Mr Reardon." "Yes, sir," said the lieutenant in a husky voice. "I don't think any one is to blame about the attempt to save the poor fellow, sir. The life-buoy was let go, and the boat lowered promptly; the dishipline of the men was good." "Excellent, Mr Reardon. I have nothing to say there. It would have been better perhaps to have lowered down the second boat sooner. But I think we have done our best. Can you make them hear from this distance?" "Yes, I think so; a voice will travel far over the smooth water on a still night like this. Shall I recall them?" Captain Thwaites was silent for a full minute, and we all stood gazing aft at the faint stars on the black water, while to right and left were those that were more dim and distant, being the paper lanterns of the house-boats moored a short distance from the bank. Then the captain spoke again, and his words re-illumined the parting light of hope which flashed up like an expiring flame. "Do you think he has struck out straight for the shore?" "He may have done so, sir," replied Mr Reardon, as we all stood in a knot together on the quarter-deck, "but he could never have reached it." "Not in this mill-race of a tide!" said Captain Thwaites. "Recall the boats." But Mr Reardon made no sign. He stood there gazing through the night-glass for some moments, and the captain spoke again. "Recall the boats, Mr Reardon." "I beg your pardon, sir," said the lieutenant, with quite a start. "Aloft there! Who's in the foretop?" "Ay, ay, sir; Jecks, sir." I shivered. "Hail the boats to come back." The man did not answer for a moment, and Mr Reardon made an angry gesture, but just then Tom Jecks, with his hands to his mouth, sent forth a hoarse deep-toned roar. Then there was a pause and a faintly-heard hail came from far away, the zig-zagging movement of the boats ceased, and we saw one of them, that is to say one of the lights, glide slowly toward the other, till one was apparently only a short distance in front, and the other following.