Mr. Mason was the first to gain the beach.  He had hit upon a shorter path by which to descend, and, rushing forward, plunged into the sea.  Poor little Alice, who at once recognized her father, stretched out her arms towards him, and would certainly have leaped into the sea had she not been forcibly detained by one of the pirates, whose special duty it was to hold her with one hand, while he restrained the violent demonstrations of Corrie with the other.

The father was too late, however.  Already the boat was several yards from the shore, and the frantic efforts he made, in the madness of his despair, to overtake it only served to exhaust him.  When Henry Stuart reached the beach, it was with difficulty he prevented those members of his band who carried muskets from firing on the boat.  None of them thought for a moment, of course, of making the mad attempt to swim towards her.  Indeed, Mr. Mason himself would have hesitated to do so had he been capable of cool thought at the time; but the sudden rush of hope when he heard of his child being near, combined with the agony of disappointment on seeing her torn, as it were, out of his very grasp, was too much for him.  His reasoning powers were completely overturned; he continued to buffet the waves with wild energy, and to strain every fiber of his being in the effort to propel himself through the water, long after the boat was hopelessly beyond reach.

Henry understood his feelings well, and knew that the poor missionary would not cease his efforts until exhaustion should compel him to do so, in which case his being drowned would be a certainty; for there was neither boat nor canoe at hand in which to push off to his rescue.

In these circumstances, the youth took the only course that seemed left to him.  He threw off his clothes, and prepared to swim after his friend, in order to render the assistance of his stout arm when it should be needed.

“Here, Jakolu!” he cried to one of the natives who stood near him.

“Yes, mass’r,” answered the sturdy young fellow, who has been introduced at an earlier part of this story as being one of the missionary’s best behaved and most active church members.

“I mean to swim after him; so I leave the charge of the party to Mr. Bumpus there.  You will act under his orders.  Keep the men together, and guard against surprise.  We don’t know how many more of these blackguards may be lurking among the rocks.”

To this speech Jakolu replied by shaking his head slowly and gravely, as if he doubted the propriety of his young commander’s intentions.  “You no can sweem queek nuff to save him,” said he.

“That remains to be seen,” retorted Henry, sharply; for the youth was one of the best swimmers on the island,—­at least the best among the whites, and better than many of the natives, although some of the latter could beat him.  “At any rate,” he continued, “you would not have me stand idly by while my friend is drowning, would you?”