“No! no! we can’t save him! he’ll have sunk before we can reach him! Let’s follow the ship--she may see us!” And he bawled “Ahoy! ahoy!” but his hoarse voice fainted in his throat. Holdsworth grasped one of the yoke-lines, and there was a short struggle. The boat’s head yawed wildly. But by this time nothing was to be heard astern but the wash of the water as the boat sucked it into eddies. Holdsworth let go the yoke-line, sprang forward and dipped the sail clear of the mast; crying that there were four lives to be saved, and it would be as bad as murder to stop the boat now. The ship was distinctly visible on the port bow, every sail on her standing in a clean black outline against the sky. She showed no lights, and further than that she was a full-rigged ship, it was impossible to tell what she resembled. They watched her with wild despair, utterly powerless to attract her attention, and dependent upon the faint possibility of their glimmering sail being distinguishable on the black surface of the water. If the wind would only lull now, if such a calm as that which had held them motionless the day before would fall, their rescue was inevitable. But the light breeze remained steady, and the ship ahead slipped forward nimbly, and became soon a square shadow against the winking stars over the horizon. How horrible to be abandoned for lack of means to make their presence known! Any kind of light would have served them. The widow moaned and beat her breast as the vessel faded into the darkness; Johnson flung himself doggedly down, and sat resting his elbow on his knee, gnawing his finger-nails; whilst Holdsworth stood upright forward, gazing with wild, passionate, intense despair, in the direction of the ship long after she had vanished. There could be little doubt that, had Johnson kept a proper look-out, he would have seen the ship in time to put his helm up, and run within easy hail of her. Holdsworth knew this, but would not increase the misery of their situation by useless reproaches. The child, who had been awakened by their cries, now that silence had fallen began to ask eagerly and importunately for water, and even reproached his mother for not attending to him. “I am hot--hot!” he petitioned. “Mamma, give me water.” Once during his appeals she started up and glared about her, as if there _must_ be some means of relieving his sufferings; and then crying, “I shall go mad!” fell back with a low, heart-broken sob, and spoke no more, though the child persisted in his entreaties for a long while. Finally he burst into tears, and after plucking at his throat for a time, sank into an uneasy slumber, in which he uttered low moaning cries repeatedly.