ces were fastened on this group; not a cry, not a word; the same tremor contracted every brow; all mouths held their breath as though they feared to add the slightest puff to the wind which was swaying the two unfortunate men.
In the meantime, the convict had succeeded in lowering himself to a position near the sailor.
It was high time; one minute more, and the exhausted and despairing man would have allowed himself to fall into the abyss.
The convict had moored him securely with the cord to which he clung with one hand, while he was working with the other.
At last, he was seen to climb back on the yard, and to drag the sailor up after him; he held him there a moment to allow him to recover his strength, then he grasped him in his arms and carried him, walking on the yard himself to the cap, and from there to the main-top, where he left him in the hands of his comrades.
At that moment the crowd broke into applause:
old convict-sergeants among them wept, and women embraced each other on the quay, and all voices were heard to cry with a sort of tender rage, "Pardon for that man!"
He, in the meantime, had immediately begun to make his descent to rejoin his detachment.
In order to reach them the more speedily, he dropped into the rigging, and ran along one of the lower yards; all eyes were following him.
At a certain moment fear assailed them; whether it was that he was fatigued, or that his head turned, they thought they saw him hesitate and stagger.