life is strong, especially in the young, and a convulsive struggle brought us once more to the surface; but, blinded with salt water, and with my senses fast leaving me, I no longer looked round for the boat, but battled desperately, though more than half unconsciously, for life; still retaining, with the tenacious grasp of the drowning, my hold upon my companion. I at length heard faintly, and as though in a dream, a voice saying, “There they are! port, sir, hard!” and then all became an utter blank.

The first indication of returning consciousness was the sound of the surgeon’s voice saying, “All right! he is coming to; and we shall save him yet.”

“Thank God for that!” presently exclaimed another voice, which I recognised as the skipper’s; “I would not have lost the lad for the worth of all that I possess. I never saw a more plucky thing in all my life; and, if he lives, he will grow up to be an ornament to the service.”

At this point I opened my eyes, and found those of the speaker bent upon me with an expression of deep solicitude. I furthermore found that I had been stripped of my wet clothing, and was lying in the captain’s own cot, with the doctor and one of the seamen rubbing my limbs and body so vigorously with their bare hands, in the endeavour to restore a brisk circulation, that I seemed to be in imminent danger of being flayed alive.

“How do you feel now, my boy?” inquired the skipper, as he bent over the side of the cot, and laid his hand kindly upon my own.

“Very much better, sir, thank you,” I replied; though, to tell the truth, I was at that moment enduring the most acute pain in every nerve of my body—the physical suffering attendant upon the returning tide of life being actually much greater than that experienced while I was undergoing the process of drowning.

“That’s right,” returned he, in a cheery tone of voice; “I am glad to hear it, as every man in the ship will be. You have performed a right gallant action, and I am sure you will be glad to know that your efforts have not been in vain. The poor fellow whom you rescued is alive, and likely to do well.”

I felt too weak to make any reply to this gratifying speech, a fact which the doctor instantly perceived, for he turned to the skipper and remarked, “With your permission, sir, we will now leave the lad in quiet to sleep off his exhaustion. I will just mix him a simple restorative, while your steward tucks him in and makes him comfortable for the 

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