In another moment the two sailors had shoved off from the ship's side.

As they did so, the stern of the Kangaroo lifted right out of the water so that they could see under her rudder-post.

Just then, too, with a yell of terror, Mr.Meeson, in whom the elementary principle of self-preservation at all costs was strongly developed, cast himself from the side and fell with a splash within a few feet of the boat.

Rising to the surface, he clutched hold of the gunwale, and implored to be taken in.
"Knock the old varmint over the knuckles, Bill," shouted the other man; "he'll upset us!" "No; no!" cried Augusta, her woman's heart moved at seeing her old enemy in such a case.

"There is plenty of room in the boat." "Hold on then," said the man addressed, whose name was Johnnie; "when we get clear we'll haul you in." And, the reader may be sure, Mr.Meeson did hold on pretty tight till, after rowing about fifty yards, the two men halted, and proceeded, not without some risk and trouble--for there was a considerable sea running--to hoist Mr.Meeson's large form over the gunwale of the boat.
Meanwhile, the horrors on board the doomed ship were redoubling, as she slowly settled to her watery grave.