“Hard a-port the helm!” shouted the naval officer suddenly: “she is going in stays!” “Keep her away, keep her away! Up with your helm!” screamed Mr. Bankhead, as the stranger came about, with her sharp bows close aboard of the Dashaway. John had obeyed the order of the lieutenant: but, at the instant he did so, he realized that it was a mistake, which, if executed, would be likely to swamp the boat; and, the moment the foresail began to shake he jammed the helm hard down, at the same time hauling on the foresheet, thus bringing her up to the wind. The Dashaway began to draw again, and swept round in a graceful curve: but the stranger was upon them; and, to the eye of the officer at the heel of the bowsprit, a collision was inevitable. “Jump for your lives!” shouted he, as he sprang from the forecastle of the Dashaway, intending to grasp the bobstay of the pilot-boat; but he missed his mark, and went into the water. Captain Bankhead was about to follow the example of his brother, and save himself from the impending wreck of the Dashaway. “Stay where you are!” exclaimed John, seizing him by the arm, as the Dashaway swept round, barely grazing the bows of the stranger. “We are safe!” “But my brother is lost!” replied he in an agony of suspense. “He leaped aboard the vessel.” “No: he fell into the water,” gasped the captain. The pilot-boat had swept by on her course; but, on discovering the accident, she came up with the wind. “Boat ahoy!” cried a voice from the rolling waves. John put the Dashaway about, and came up again before the wind, heading for the spot, as nearly as he could judge whence the sound proceeded. “Go forward, and haul him in, if you see him!” said John, sharply, to the soldier. “Boat ahoy!” again cried the lieutenant. “I hear him!” replied the captain, as he sprang forward. “I see him!” A huge wave bore the struggling sailor upon its crest, and his brother attempted to grasp his extended hand, but the boat swayed off, placing him out of reach of the willing soldier. But, fortunately, John saw the poor fellow, as the wave lifted him up; and, putting the helm down, he rushed to the side, and succeeded in grasping the lieutenant by the arm. With the aid of the brother, he was hauled on board, nearly exhausted by his struggles with the angry billows. John sprang to the helm again; for the boat had nearly swamped by getting into the trough of the sea. Without loss of time, he put her upon her course again. The Dashaway had shipped a great deal of water; and the young skipper, without regarding the dignity of his passengers, ordered the captain to take the bucket, and bale out the standing-room. “Do it, Fred,” said the lieutenant. “I can take care of myself now.” “We are all right now. How do you feel?” asked John of the sailor. “I am almost used up; but I shall be better in a few moments,” he answered feebly.