When Jack Villiers fell overboard from the "Forte's" main rigging he was partially stunned by the violence with which he struck the water; but, being a strong, athletic boy, and a splendid swimmer, he soon recovered himself, and struck out desperately, in hopes of reaching one of the many life-buoys that he knew must have been flung overboard into the wake of the ship. The sea, however, had become very boisterous, and the great waves dashed over him again and again, drenching him with their stinging salt brine; and the fog had become so dense that he could not see more than two or three feet in front of him. It was a terrible position for a boy to be in, but Jack was of that sterling stuff that heroes are made of, and was determined to make a brave struggle for life. "If it wasn't for this horrid fog," he muttered to himself as he dashed the salt spray from his eyes, "I should be as right as a trivet, for I could certainly keep myself afloat till the boat picked me up." [Illustration: (Jack Villiers and life-buoy)] Jack, of course, had no idea in which direction he was swimming. As a matter of fact, he was moving away from the "Forte" instead of towards her. The water in the Indian Ocean is so wonderfully buoyant that the middy was not much incommoded by his clothes, which were of very thin texture. The temperature, too, was warm enough to prevent any feeling of numbness. Jack's heart began to sink a little when he fully recognised how difficult it would be for the crew of the boat to find him. He had had sufficient experience at sea to know that when a man falls overboard in half a gale of wind he is washed away an immense distance from the ship in an incredibly short space of time. He was aware also that the cutter could not be lowered until the way of the ship was nearly stopped, and this involved much necessary delay. Jack listened intently for the friendly sound of oars grinding in the rowlocks, or for the shouts of his searching shipmates, but amid the roar of the elements not a sound could he distinguish. Once or twice he shouted at the top of his voice, but this he quickly found exhausted him too much, and it was absolutely necessary that he should husband his strength as far as possible in order to keep afloat at all in such a tempestuous sea. Presently, to his great joy, our hero was struck violently on the shoulder by a circular cork lifebuoy, which was one of those thrown overboard from the "Forte's" poop. With great presence of mind Jack seized the buoy in a strong grip, and it was lucky he did so promptly, as in another moment it would have been washed far beyond him by a rolling wave. This buoy undoubtedly saved the mid of the maintop's life, for, as we know, the cutter never came within hail of him, in spite of all the efforts of her devoted crew.