They pulled backward and forward, calling out to the drowning one that help was near. "Ah, yonder he is at last!" cries a woman's voice in exultant tones; "there he is with his head above water, for I see his hat." "And they see him too, and are pulling toward him with all their might!" "Ah, they're up with him! they have him now! hurrah!" and a wild cheer rose from hundreds of throats. But it died away in a groan. "It was his hat--only his hat, poor fellow. And they've given it up and are coming back without him!" sighs the woman who had been the first to raise the alarm. Every face wears a look of sadness for the few moments of silent waiting as the rowers slowly return. They gain the deck of the Milwaukee; one of them--a lad of nineteen or twenty, a rough, hardy sailor--comes forward with a subdued manner--in strange contrast to his accustomed rude hilarity--lips white and quivering, tears in his manly eyes. "Mother, mother," he says, low and huskily, drawing near this woman with tottering steps, "don't--don't take it too hard. I--I couldn't bear to see you. I did my best; we all did; but we couldn't find him; and here's his hat. It--it was little Billy." "My boy! mine! my little one!" she shrieked, and fell fainting into the arms of her elder son. There was not a dry eye among the spectators, and as the sad story spread to the other vessels many a tremulous tone and falling tear attested the pity and sympathy of those who told the tale and those who listened to it. "But how did it happen?" queried one and another; and the answer was, "He was jumping back and forth from one vessel to another, and fell in between the Milwaukee and the steamer; and it is conjectured that he must have been struck by the wheel, as he did not come up again." "And it might have been one of ours," sobbed Mrs. Keith, clasping her babe to her breast, while her eye glanced from one to another of her darlings. "Ah, how frightened I was when I heard the cry. I don't know how I got up the cabin steps! for I thought it was perhaps--" Tears choked her utterance; tears of mingled gratitude for herself and sorrow for the bereaved mother. "Yes, it might have been you, Cyril or Don; and think how poor mother's heart would have been broken, and mine too," Mr. Keith added, sitting down and taking one on each knee. "Now do you want to try jumping across like that boy did?" They shook their heads, gazing up into his face with awe-struck countenances. The sad event of the morning seemed to have exerted a subduing influence upon all the passengers; it was a very quiet day on board. The calm continued throughout the day but a breeze sprang up in the night and the vessels parted company.