All that followed in the midst of that horrible din of shrieking wind, beating spray, and thundering seemed to be a confused dream, out of which he kept thinking he should wake, as he sheltered his eyes with his hands and tried to see the boat. But no. Once it had plunged down that hill of foamy wave it had disappeared into a mist of spray and froth; and though two or three times he fancied that he caught sight of the boat climbing some wave between where they stood and the wreck, he could not be sure. There was confidence, though, on the part of the men who were holding the line. "He's paying it out right enough, the lad," shouted one of them to Uncle Abram; and as time went on signals were exchanged that told of the safety of those in the boat. The distance was not great, and the reef of rocks not only formed a shelter, but produced a kind of eddy, which made the passage of the boat somewhat less perilous; but all the same it was a forlorn hope, and many of the fishermen said to themselves that the next time that they saw Will Marion and Josh it would be beaten and bruised by wave and rock, and cast up upon the shore. But the signals, jerks of the rope, kept coming, and men perched themselves high up among the rocks to watch the progress of the boat with their glasses, but in vain. All they could see was an occasional glimpse of the mizen of the ship, with a dark patch of clustering humanity. The life-saving gear had meanwhile been carried to the spot whence the boat was started; and there was hope yet that a connection might be made between the vessel and the rocks. But time went on--time, confused by the roar of wind and wave, and there was no sign. It had seemed utter madness for that boat to be sent forth into such a chaos of waters; but there are things which some men call mad often adventured by the brave fishers of our coast. All at once Dick started from his father's side to run to Uncle Abram, who had seated himself slowly upon a block of stone about which the foam floated to and fro on a few inches of water. The old man sank down in a way whose action Dick read at once, for the old fellow let his head go down upon his hands, and these rested upon his knees; and as he saw the air of utter dejection, Dick felt that poor Will must have been lost. It seemed so horrible, so strange, that as Dick reached Abram Marion's side he sank down on his knees beside the old man, caught at his hands, and literally sobbed out: "Oh! don't say he's drowned; don't say he's drowned." There was quite a lull as he spoke; and as the old man felt the touch of the boy's clinging hands he laid his own upon his head with a strange far-off look in his eyes. "I don't say so; I won't say so!" he cried in a hoarse, passionate way. "My brave, true lad! but I oughtn't to have let him go." "Hurrah!"