While in the act of endeavouring to stimulate with his inevitable colt an apprentice boy, who was at work greasing the sheaves of the starboard catblock, Bitts fell overboard. The ship, which was going before an easy breeze, was promptly thrown in the wind, and, aware that Bitts was unable to swim, Derval, without a thought or consideration, threw off his jacket, and plunged in to save or assist him. This occurred within a day's sail of Tristan d'Acunha. The height from which he leaped--the top-gallant forecastle, as the short upper deck forward is named--made him go very deep into the water, and when he came to the surface a cry of horror escaped him, for he could see only one of the man's hands above it, while all around was crimsoned with blood! In a moment he knew that a shark had taken him, and every instant he expected the same fate. The breath seemed to leave his body at the terrible anticipation, and thus he sank more than once, nearly paralysed. Promptly though the mainyard had been backed, the _Amethyst_ had forged some distance ahead, and Derval gave himself up for lost, though he heard the clamour on board each time he rose to the surface, and the rattle of the fall-tackles, with the splash, as a quarter-boat was being lowered and shoved off towards him. As if to add to his horror he saw--or thought he saw--the black dorsal fin of the monster standing steadily above the water about twenty yards distant. "God help me! God spare me!" escaped his lips, for death in an awful shape seemed terribly close indeed, and every action of his past life seemed to come in memory vividly before him, compressed into the narrow space of a minute or two. Half senseless with actual fear, he was dragged into the boat, and he was barely on board the ship when no less than four sharks, all seeking for prey, were seen under the starboard counter, where they continued to follow her for some time after the yard-heads were filled, and she once more stood on her course. The crew crowded round Derval, and Captain Talbot shook him warmly by the hand. "You are a brave, good lad!" said he, "and had you saved the poor fellow, should have had such a medal as I now wear. I have twice saved human life at sea, but never in the face of peril such as this. Poor Paul Bitts! he was never a friend of yours, certainly; but he has come to a most awful end, with all his imperfections on his head." After a little time the Captain decided that on getting a certificate he should be his successor. For many a day and night after this did Derval shudder at the thought of what he had gone through, and recal the acute agony of his emotions in the water; but other events came to pass, and gradually the horror lessened in his memory.