What a shout greeted him! Hoarse roars of excitement, bravoes, and the hysterical shrieks of the lady passenger fell on his ears.
"Bravely done! A splendid act, and the only effective way to tackle him," shouted the captain, now standing on the rail and clinging to a halyard. "He has let go his hold! Strike at the brute, Tom. You have him within reach. Ah! That should settle the matter."
He leaned over, breathless with excitement, and watched as the sailor, dangling over the side, steadied himself against the ship with his bare toes, aimed at the floundering fish, and then struck with the boat-hook with all his strength, driving the iron end deep into the shark's body.
"Hold him, Tom," called out the captain. "Mr. Blunt, trail on to the bow of the boat for a moment longer. Another is being lowered from the port side, and will be round. You're all right?"
"Never stronger in my life," came the cool answer. "But that brute has mauled my shoulder rather badly. Who came after me?"
"Dudley Compton," shouted the stout passenger, now all aquiver with excitement. "The brave lad leaped straight in."
"I thought he would. I guessed he would be the one," came the calm reply. "Don't fret, Skipper. We're all snug down here for a while if there are no more of those brutes. Ha, Dudley, that you?"
He nodded coolly as the young fellow swam to his side and gripped the bows.
"Look before you leap," he laughed. "In other words, don't dive into a sea where sharks are expected."
The man was made of iron. Dudley watched him closely as they clung, waiting for the relief boat, and plainly saw the lines of pain drawn on his friend's face, the suffering which this strong settler from South America was too proud and too courageous to show. He was suffering, anyone could tell that from the red streaks which issued from the rents in his coat, and he was shaken, for his lips twitched suspiciously.
"You're hurt, sir. Shall I hold you and so take the weight from your other arm."
"Hold me! Not a bit of it, Dudley!" came the swift answer. "Hush! I'm hurt I know, but a man recovers sooner if he shows pluck about a thing of this sort. Lad, if I had a hand to grip yours!"
There was a depth of feeling now in the voice, feeling which he would not show before. Mr. Blunt looked at his young deliverer with eyes which displayed his gratitude plainly. Then his features hardened, and Dudley saw the lines of pain again. At that moment the boat, which had been hastily lowered, came round the stern of the vessel, and the five who were in the water were lifted into her and conveyed to the gangway, which had now been dropped from the rail. They were greeted with shouts of delight, and Mr. Blunt was hurried off a second later by the captain to have his wounds attended to. For no surgeon was carried, and almost every skipper of ocean-going vessels in those days had picked up a smattering of surgical and medical knowledge from the seaman's hospital at Greenwich or in other ports. As for Dudley, he was seized upon by the passengers, hoisted to the shoulders of the stout and enthusiastic little man who had seemed on the point of following him into the water, and with the help of two others he was conveyed down to the saloon.