I fell on hands and feet where the water was a yard deep under the ship, but got my footing and floundered through the slop, in a desperate struggle to climb as high as might be on the beach before the next wave came in.  I saw the string of men lashed together and reaching down as far as man might, to save any that came through the surf, and heard them shout to cheer us, and marked a coil of rope flung out.  Elzevir was by my side and saw it too, and we both kept our feet and plunged forward through the quivering slack water; but then there came an awful thunder behind, the crash of the sea over the wreck, and we knew that another mountain wave was on our heels.  It came in with a swishing roar, a rush and rise of furious water that swept us like corks up the beach, till we were within touch of the rope’s-end, and the men shouted again to hearten us as they flung it out.  Elzevir seized it with his left hand and reached out his right to me.  Our fingers touched, and in that very moment the wave fell instantly, with an awful suck, and I was swept down the beach again.  Yet the under-tow took me not back to sea, for amid the floating wreckage floated the shattered maintop, and in the truck of that great spar I caught, and so was left with it upon the beach thirty paces from the men and Elzevir.  Then he left his own assured salvation, namely the rope, and strode down again into the very jaws of death to catch me by the hand and set me on my feet.  Sight and breath were failing me; I was numb with cold and half-dead from the buffeting of the sea; yet his giant strength was powerful to save me then, as it had saved me before.  So when we heard once more the warning crash and thunder of the returning wave we were but a fathom distant from the rope.  ‘Take heart, lad,’ he cried; ‘’tis now or never,’ and as the water reached our breasts gave me a fierce shove forward with his hands.  There was a roar of water in my ears, with a great shouting of the men upon the beach, and then I caught the rope.

CHAPTER 19

ON THE BEACH

Toll for the brave,
  The grave that are no more;
All sunk beneath the wave
  Fast by their native shore—­Cowper

The night was cold, and I had nothing on me save breeches and boots, and those drenched with the sea, and had been wrestling with the surf so long that there was little left in me.  Yet once I clutched the rope I clung to it for very life, and in a minute found myself in the midst of the beachmen.  I heard them shout again, and felt strong hands seize me, but could not see their faces for a mist that swam before my eyes, and could not speak because my throat and tongue were cracked with the salt water, and the voice would not come.  There was a crowd about me of men and some women, and I spread out my hands, blindly, to catch hold of them, but my knees failed and let me down upon the beach.  And after that I remember only having coats flung over me, and being carried off out of the wind, and laid in warmest blankets before a fire.  I was numb with the cold, my hair was matted with the salt, and my flesh white and shrivelled, but they forced liquor into my mouth, and so I lay in drowsy content till utter weariness bound me in sleep.