A new paroxysm of the gale well-nigh dashed them backwards, and for a time prevented their seeing anything.
But in a minute or two it eased off enough to allow them to open their eyes.
"See--there--look out, look out," cried the doctor, pointing.
He was right.

About a quarter of a mile away, buffeted like a cork on the water, was a boat, and in it something red.
"Stand up and wave; it's no use shouting," said Armstrong.
Taking advantage of a temporary lull, they stood and waved their coats above their heads.

Whether they were seen or not, they could not tell.
No signal came in return; only the boat--as it seemed, stern-foremost-- drove on towards them.
"Hold on and get your rope ready," said the doctor.
"Will she clear the rocks or no ?" "We shall see.

They've no oars out.

Stay there while I wave again." This time it was not in vain.