THE following account of a shipwreck on our coast, and a gallant rescue by a Life-boat, has been taken from a new work,' Under one Hoof/ * by Mr. JAMBS PAYN, the well-known author, whose genius is determined to leave some marks on our age, and particularly so in his vivid account of a Life-boat service, arising probably from having been an eyewitness of some noble rescue:— "There is a terrible storm at sea, I am sure, Walcot. Hush—is that thunder?" " No, it is a minute gun." As he spoke the door opened, and in ran a fair-faced blue-eyed lad of about nine years old.

" Oh, papa ! oh, Mr. Walcot! There is a ship- wreck off the Point!" The flushed face and glowing eyes of the speaker betrayed intense excitement.

" If there is shipwreck there is danger to some poor souls, Frank," said Sir Robert, reprovingly.

" You should be sorry rather than pleased at such a catastrophe." * Under one Roof, by JAMES PACT*, Author of ' Lost Sir Massingberd,' 'By Proxy,' etc. Published by Messrs.

Chatto and Wmdus, London. 1879.

" Oh, but indeed, papa, I am sorry, only " " Only we young people are a little thoughtless, eh," put in Mr. Walcot. " We are apt only to think of ourselves, even though what is fun to us (as in the case of the fable of the frogs) may be death to others." "Dou't let us eay 'Death,'" said Sir Robert, gently. " And if it be so, how can the young pic- ture it to themselves? We are not angry with you, my boy. If there was any one on board that unhappy ship in whom you had any interest or connection you would feel sorry enough, I know You smile, Ferdinand. What is it ? " " Oh, nothing ; I was only smiling at human nature. As it happens, there is in all human pro- bability on board this very ship some one con- nected with our young friend ; but then it is not likely to be a pleasant connection. Lady Arden expects the new governess from Bristol to-morrow.

She should arrive there from the Continent by sea to-night." " Good heavens ! I had forgotten that; but so, of course, had Frank; else his conduct would have been heartless indeed." Again Mr. Walcot shrugged his shoulders, and smiled his pitying smile.

" You expect too much of poor humanity," he said; " you have been taught to look for too much." " That is true, indeed," said Sir Robert, with a deep sigh. " There was no one like my Madeline for thinking of others, nor ever will be." He sat down in his chair again, as though quite forgetful of his intention to go out, and covered his face in his hands. The thud of another storm-gun broke the silence, and once more roused him to a sense of the occasion. " Come," said he, " let us do what we can; it is well to rememher the dead, but we must not forget the living." When the two men entered the hall for their coats and wraps, they found all the rest of the family about to start on the same exciting errand —that is, all the able-bodied ones, which did not include " Baba " Nicoll (aged three and a half), nor Lady Arden herself, who never trusted herself to the tender mercies of the night air (in the country), and objected to all excitements (such as shipwrecks) which were not of a strictly fashion- able kind.

The moon was at the full, but was only visible by fits, when the hurrying masses of grey clouds left her pale face clear at intervals of unequal duration. A great master of word-painting has described the wind as coming into "a rocking town and stabbing all things up and down;" but to no town-dweller can be conveyed an adequate conception of the force and fury of that element as it rages on such a coast as that which lies around Halcombe Point. The very land seemed to shudder as it swept across it; the sea grew livid under its ceaseless scourging. As far as the eye could reach, from the hill above the Point, was a world of wild white waters, the foam of which was dashed upwards in sheets fathoms high, and carried inland in sharp sleet.

On this white surface there was but one object, from which ever and anon there flashed a jet of flame, succeeded by a dull thud—a hoarse cry for help that it lay not in human power to give ; it looked, and was, but a black, inert mass, a broken plaything, of which the storm had not yet tired; but it had been an hour ago a gallant steamship, prompt to obey its master, man. The wind was now the only power it acknowledged, and it was being driven before it at headlong speed towards the Point. The little party, huddled together for foothold, gazed on this spectacle with awestruck eyes.

"Poor souls, poor souls," cried Sir Robert.

" Good God, can nothing be done ? " " Nothing," answered Walcot, gravely. " She will go to pieces when she touches the rocks." " Thank Heaven, here is Mr. Dyneley, with some men," ejaculated Evy, looking back.

"Mr. Dyneley is a clergyman, Miss Evelyn," answered Walcot, with the least touch of scorn, " but he cannot work miracles." "He has, however, brought the mortar ap- paratus," observed Milly, naively.

And, indeed, as the tall, brown-bearded curate drew nigh, they could see that he was followed by half-a-dozen stalwart men, who dragged behind them the implement in question.

"A sad sight, Sir Robert," bawled the curate (for indeed every one spoke at the full stretch of their lungs) ; " but if the ladies can bear to look at it you had better bring them down to the mill." This was the saw-mill, of which we have already spoken, built upon the very edge of the harbour, and the only place for miles upon the coast in which on such a night shelter could be found.

"You are always right, Dyneley," said Sir Robert, approvingly; " do you take charge of one of the girls." With a diffident, hesitating air, that contrasted rather comically with his stature and proportions, the young curate was about to offer his arm to Evy, but Mr. Walcot, who stood beside her, was quicker in his movements, and took possession of that young lady, leaving her sister to fall to the other s share.

Thus they moved down the hill together to the mill, from the windows of which could be ob- tained almost as good a view of the driving ship as from the hill itself, but, nevertheless, such was the excitement of the little party, that they preferred to stand outside, sheltered only in a very moderate degree by the low stone wall of the quay.

The vessel, we have said, was approaching the point very rapidly, but not in a direct line; it was i possible that she might just skirt it, and go ashore ! a few score yards beyond. In this case her destruction would not be so immediate, but, on the other hand, the life-lines could hardly be shot over her from the apparatus. The curate and his men, however, had everything in readiness; you would have said, to judge by their resolute and earnest faces as they stood beside the mortar, that they were, about to defend their native soil against the attack of a foe. Mr. Walcot, too, faced the cruel blast with stern eyes and knitted brow, except when he dropped a word of exhortation to be of good courage to Evy; but Sir Robert and the young people wore looks of fear and pity, and more than one of them already repented that they had come out with a light heart to behold so sad a scene.

" Do you know the ship ?" asked the curate of the man beside him. He himself had been on the coast for years, but to his landsman's eyes the shattered mass before him was but a black and shapeless hulk.

" It is the Rhinelaud," answered the other, con- fidently ; " the steamer that plies between Eotter- dam and Bristol." "You may say 'that used to ply,'" put in another—it was John Jenkins, parish clerk, who plumed himself on employing terms of accuracy, "for she will never make another voyage." " Do you hear that, Mr. Walcot ?" exclaimed Evelyn, in terrified accents ; " it is the Rhineland; that is the boat that poor Miss Hurt is to come by." " Was to come by," murmured Mr. Jenkins, for- tunately beneath his ordinary ecclesiastical tones, so that the amendment was inaudible.

The huge hull came flying on, like some mighty sea-bird on a brolcea wing, for whose discordant screams the shrieking of the wind might easily have been taken ; her mainmast and rigging could now be clearly seen standing out against the moonlight; without a rag of sail or puff of steam, her ghastly and spectral form was hurrying on, when her headlong course was suddenly arrested ; the crash of rending timber was mingled for an instant with the roaring of the storm, and a white shroud of foam enveloped her and hid her from sight.

" God of Heaven, she has foundered!" ex- claimed Sir Robert. The two girls uttered a scream of anguish.

" Nay, I still see her," cried the curate, eagerly.

" She is on the Lancet, sir," said a coastguards- man. "The wind must have shifted a point to have took her there." The Lancet was a long sharp line of rocks, about two hundred yards from shore, but quite disconnected with it; the waves always covered it, but at low tide—which was now the case—only a few inches.

The hull looked considerably higher now than she had been in the water, the wind and waves having probably carried her bodily on to the ledge; nevertheless, in her stationary position, the sea, climbing and raging about her at its will, seemed to devour her more completely even than before.

" Is the position altered for the better by this, Marley ? " inquired the curate, anxiously.

" She may hold together now for a few hours," answered the coastguardsman : " but she will go to pieces at the flow." He was an old sailor, and his mind was fixed on the fate of the ship rather than on those it carried.

"I mean as respects the poor souls on board, man," continued the curate, with some asperity.

" In my opinion nothing can save them, sir. If the men at Archester have already put out the life-boat, it is possible they may be here in time; but not otherwise." " But is it not probable they have done so ?" " No, sir; they must have known from her posi- tion (judging from the sound of the guns) that the ship would be ashore hours before they could reach her; and of course they did not take into account the chance of her grounding on the Lancet." " A swift horse, even with this wind across him, would reach Archester in an hour," soliloquised the curate. " I am a heavy weight; but then I know how to ride, which these men don't. Might I take your bay mare, Sir Robert?" "Of course, my dear fellow; and don't spare her. Ten pounds a piece from me, mind, to every man who mans the life-boat, but don't volunteer yourself, Dyneley; Halcombe can't spare you." The compliment was lost on him for whom it was intended, for the curate was already on the slope of the hill.

***** "I think I see figures upon the rigging," ob- served Sir Robert, anxiously. "Is it not so, Marley?" " Yes, sir; the sea has found its way into the hull, and some poor souls have taken to the shrouds." "To the shrouds?" murmured little Frank, trembling with awe. He knew that shrouds and death were somehow associated.

"Yes, my boy," said Sir Robert, kindly. " They will thus, for the time, be out of the reach of the waves, and let us trust that they will be able to hold on there till help arrives." Mr. Marley shook his head with a grunt. It was his manner of expressing disagreement with the baronet's opinion. They might hold on indeed up in the cross-trees and elsewhere for an indefinite time, but it was not possible, he meant to imply, that the ship could hold together. - The storm had abated nothing of its ferocity, yet none of the party at the Point thought of going home. It seemed to all of them, though they could do nothing in the way of help, that it was a forsaking of these poor drowning creatures to quit their post. But the Hall folks did leave the quay and withdraw into the mill, from the windows of which they continued to watch the doomed vessel.

* * » * * When the good ship Rhineland started from Rotterdam for Bristol on what turned out to be her last voyage, the weather was what seamen term " dirty:" but it was not for those who had paid the very moderate passage-money demanded of them to inquire whether that phrase did not, in this particular case at least, mean "dangerous." They could not be expected to understand that when a large consignment of cattle are eating their heads off at a shipowner's expense, a vessel puts to sea in weather that, under other circum- stances, would keep her in port, or even that the presence of cattle on the deck of a steamer does not tend to increase its seaworthiness. Except | those unhappy persons who never go to sea at all I without a presentiment that they shall be drowned, and behold in every wave the instrument of their destruction, the passengers by the RJiineland were without misgivings. Those subject to sea-sickness at once fled to their berths to hide their agonies from the public gaze, and the others repaired to the saloon—the sofas of which rocked like cradles —or secured themselves in such shelter as they could find upon the deck, to snatch a fearful joy from the contemplation of the work of a south- wester.

Among these latter were two persons, with one of whom, Elise Hurt, we are acquainted by name.

She is a girl of eighteen years of age or so, of graceful figure, and a face, which, if not beautiful, according to our English notions, is, at least, eminently pleasing. The young Englishman by her side upon the deck was Mr. Gresham. * * * He was no sailor, and he was by no means easily impressed with the sense of personal danger ; but as the gale increased he could not avoid the suspicion that the Rhineland was incompetent to fight against it, though whether this arose from her build, or the weakness of her engines, or the unfitness of her crew, he was no judge. He only knew for certain that she sank lower in the trough of the sea, remained longer than she had at first in those briny depths of the colour and opaqueness of bottle glass, and rose to the surface no longer buoyantly, but as it were with a dead lift. His view of matters was essentially that of a lands- man, of course, yet it was clear that things were not as they should be. For example, nothwitb- standing his thick Ulster and the railway rug, he had now scarcely a dry thread on his body, for wave after wave washed the deck, so that it seemed at times to be under water. Seated at the foot of a mast in almost the centre of the vessel, he was in as level a spot as could be attained, yet his feet were as often as not higher than his head, and only by gripping a taut rope could he save himself at every lurch from being swept with the outgoing waters against the bulwarks.

There had been one or two male passengers who, like himself, had preferred the rough usage of the storm to the sights and sounds and smells that were only too certain to be met with below stairs ; but even these had sooner or later sought the shelter of the cabin, save one individual, with bright grey eyes and keen, weather-beaten face, who now ens'conced himself close to Gresham.

"When there is war among the elements," he observed, with a strong American accent, "man and beast, fore-cabin and saloon passengers, all herd together in presence of the common danger." The idea of this individual from the second cabin thinking it necessary to apologise for his intrusion on a privileged locality during what, not only to Mr. Gresham's eyes, but in actual fact, had become little less than a hurricane, tickled that gentleman's sense of humour, " You have been in a good many gales like this, no doubt?" said he, good-naturedly, and also, perhaps, with a secret hope that his companion might reply in the affirmative.

" I have been in a good many gales, yes, sir, but not in one like this," answered the other, slowly.

" This is a most all-nred and catawampous tornado." " Do you think the ship will live through it ? " inquired Gresham, in as indifferent a tone as he could assume, " I have not given my consideration, sir, to that contingency," was the reply, delivered with a most philosophic air; "I don't care two cents about the ship, which, moreover, is doubtless insured beyond 574 THE her value; but if you ask my opinion as to whether you and I will live through this tornado —well, I give it you plump, I don't think we shall.

If I was on dry land, and yet in possession of the facts concerning our position, I would lay ten dollars to one against any person on board this ship getting to land alive." " God bless my soul!" ejaculated Gfesham, half mechanically, half from the serious shock 6f this communication.

" Yes, that's just what it's come to," answered the other; the coolness, not to say the cynicism, of whose tone was greatly intensified by a certain prominence in his left cheek, which looked as though he were putting his tongue in it, hut was really attributable to a plug of tobacco. "A man —if he's to be called a man—knows how to take the last hard slap of Fate; the one with which she knocks you down* for good and all. But the women, they mostly take to hysterics. There will be sad scenes down there, I reckon," and he pointed to the cabin. " It's time for them as has prayer-books to sport 'em." " You are a seafaring man, of course, and I am a landsman," answered Gresham, gravely; " else I had hoped that my ignorance of the extent of our danger had magnified it. Why is it you take such a gloomy view of our position? " " Well, the Rhineland is not A 1, and few vessels, even, that are such, could bear such a buffeting as this for many hours ; the engines don't work, in my opinion, as they should do; we're lower in the water than we should be, and I guess there's water on board below stairs. Moreover— but look yonder, and judge for yourself. Our captain would not heave that ballast overboard unless he were in great straits." Gresham's eye followed the direction of his companion's finger, and perceived that one side of the cattle-pen had been removed, and a correspond- ing portion of the ship's bulwarks swung back upon its hinge, so that with every roll of the ship to leeward many sheep and oxen fell into the sea.

It was a simple way of unloading, which the position of the ship, now on one side, now on the other, alone could have rendered possible.

" There will be less meat for the English markets," observed Gresham, resolved not to be outdone in coolness by the representative of Cousin Jonathan.

" There will be also less mouths to eat it," was the quiet rejoinder.

"Is it not possible to put hack?" inquired Gresham.

" No. To steer one point out of the wind's eye would be to write Finis." " If the gale doesn't abate, in short, we are dead men?" " Nay, things are not quite so bad; if we can hold our course till we are round the Land's End, we shall have the wind behind us. Then we shall run, as if the devil were kicking us ; and if we are not pooped, may find ourselves in Bristol instead of Heaven." Though the stranger spoke as if quite indifferent to the alternative, Gresham noticed that his eye watched narrowly every event—or mischance, for the words were now identical—that took place on board: the breaking loose of various articles that had been hitherto secured to the deck ; the occa- sional crashing of the bulwarks ; the lessening load of live stock; the behaviour of the two men at the wheel, and the gestures of the captain, who, despite wind and wave, stuck like a limpet to his post upon the bridge between the paddle-boxes.

He understood from what his companion said that if the ship were once in the Bristol Channel there would be a better chance for her, notwithstanding that she would be exposed to dangers of another nature.

Matters had thus endured for many hours, when the calls of hunger necessitated Gresham's descent j into the saloon.

[ " If you are going to the larder," said his Trans- atlantic friend, " put both meat and drink in your ! pocket as I do "—and he produced a flask and a loaf—" for you may need it." "You mean if we have to take to the boats? But one of the sailors told me that nothing but a Life-boat could float in such a sea as this." " Never mind what the sailor told you. Do what ] / tell you. Depend upon it, Providence always ! takes the most care of those who never throw j away a chance." I There seemed good sense, if not much faith, in I this advice ; and Gresham procured certain sup- I plies from the ship's steward accordingly. That j functionary was very pale and silent, and took the money without a trace of his usual promptness on such occasions. Although no sailor, he had been too many voyages in the Rhineland not to know that there was something greatly amiss with this one.

The passengers in the saloon, too, were silent, uttering only a moan or a groan as the shock of a wave threw them from their moorings on the sofas. Some of them had a frightened look in their eyes, like that of a hunted creature who knows not whither to fly ; but most had a stern, grave air. One or two sat hand-in-hand with their wives, who were weeping silently, but there were very few women present. Gresham glanced into the ladies' cabin as he passed by its open door, and saw Elise Hurt sitting at the corner of the sofa that ran round the room. Her calm, quiet face presented a strange contrast to the sorrowful and despairing looks of her companions.

She rose, and holding by the little pillars of the cabin, made her way towards him. " Are matters really so bad, Mr. Gresham," inquired she, quietly, " as they are thought to be down here ? " "They are very bad," he said. "Would you prefer to come on deck ? " " If I shall not be in the way, I should," answered she, simply.

The relations between them, it was understood by both, had altered with external circumstances.

In the presence of such sudden destruction as threatened them, all prudery disappeared; face to face with death it was, moreover, impossible that love should again become the topic of conversation.

" Put on every shawl and wrap that you possess," he said, gravely ; and she obeyed him.

At the foot of the cabin stairs a lurch more violent than usual shook the vessel, and Elise would have fallen had not the young man clasped her in his arms.

As the vessel lurched, a murmur of apprehen- sion arose from the inmates of the saloon. " What has happened, Mr. Gresham ?" she exclaimed.

" I think the ship has changed her course; we are running before the wind." They got on deck and reached their old place of shelter with less difficulty than Gresham had met with on leaving it, for what he suspected had, in fact, happened. The vessel was now steaming —or rather scudding, for the paddles were of little use—with the gale behind her. The pitching and the rolling of the ship had somewhat mitigated, and her stern was now receiving the giant blows that had heretofore fallen on her bows. Neither cattle nor sheep now remained on board, and all things that had not been secured to the deck, or formed part of it, had been swept away. The Yankee had gone below and besides the two men AUGUST 1,1879.] THE LIFE-BOAT.

575 lashed to the wheel, the captain on the bridge, and the sailors at the pumps, which were kept con- stantly doing, the two young people were the only persons who now braved the storm.

Not, however, that the condition of those in the saloon or cabins was much better ; for every seam, through the straining of the ship, had begun to leak, and the berths were half full of water.

"Sit here, Elise," said Gresham, without the least consciousness of having addressed her by her Christian name, "and do not turn your head or look behind you." Being a woman—or perhaps it would be fairer to say, being human—Miss Hurt immediately looked behind her, to behold a sublime spectacle ! The sea seemed to be pursuing the ship with open mouth, with the literal intention of swallowing her! Huge mountains of dark green water, fringed with flying foam, were rushing at headlong speed after their trembling prey. It was a chase wherein the odds against the hunted thing were as a thousand to one, for strength was failing it. The Rhineland flew with amazing speed, but no longer of her own, volition.

There was a certain light to starboard, by which it was attempted to steer obliquely, but the ship scarcely answered to her helm at all; though this, as it happened, was of small importance, for the light was a floating one—the Hope lightship— which the gale had driven from her moorings two miles nearer shore. A little canvas, with extreme peril, had been spread in the forepart of the ship, when she changed her course, to keep her head straight, but this had instantly been split to ribbons. It was plain to the most inexperienced eye that the labouring and groaning vessel was almost in extremis.

Suddenly a tremendous sea broke over the bow, sweeping everything, including even the boats, to the afterpart of the deck, lifting the very star- board anchor on to the forecastle, and washing one of the steersmen from the wheel.

That Elise Hurt and Gresham did not share his fate was solely owing to the protection of the mast behind which they were screened. For the moment it seemed that all was over. The steamer, indeed, could no longer be so entitled, for its engines had stopped, the inundation having put the fires out; nor henceforth could the Kh neland be termed a vessel—it was a mere log, at the mercy of the winds and waves. Still it floated. Gresham's arm encircled Elise, and drew her closer to him.

" Be of good courage," he said, " I see the land." For the first time, indeed, the land had become dimly visible by the occasional light afforded by the moon when uneclipsed by the clouds that raced across her. A long black line of coast, high and rocky, showed itself on the northern horizon.

There were more people now on deck, the watch below among them, who had been driven from their quarters by the inroad of the waves. Despair and irresolution reigned among them, but not in every case.

" Load the gun," roared the captain.

All the boats were badly damaged, some having been broken to pieces, and in any case no boat could have been lowered in such a sea. The only chance of rescue was from the land; and it was high time to tell, if haply there should be ears to listen to them, in what miserable straits they stood. The powder, in such confusion, was not easily procured, and the operation of loading was still more difficult. But somehow or other it was effected. Then the roar of minute gun after minute gun mixed with the artillery of the gale.

Every thud of the cannon sounded like a knell to these poor wretches, till suddenly the hearts of all were lighted up by the sight of a thin light to | southward. The consciousness of their peril had | been at last conveyed to their fellow creatures on j shore, and had been thus acknowedged! The light was that of the beacon that the men of the Coastguard had lit upon the quay at Halcombe Point.

As to the locality in which the Rhineland was now situated, the captain himself had only an approximate idea of it, while the majority of the passengers only knew that they were in the Bristol Channel.

The American, whose name was Pearce, and who preferred, as it afterwards appeared, to be called "Commodore," being appealed to (by reason of his knowing looks) upon this subject, grimly replied that he did not know in what portion of the Channel they were, but that in his opinion the question would soon be solved; the expression he used was, " I guess it won't be long before we're at the bottom of it." To do him justice, he only gave this answer to the men; to the women he always expressed himself hopefully. He said that there was a mighty difference between being drowned and having the starch taken out of their collars, which had happened to the poor creatures already. It was known, of course, by this time to himself and every seaman on board, that the ship was driving on shore, and that the question of safety for every soul on board depended on what sort of shore it was.

While he was making this very observation in Gresham's ear the ship suddenly struck with tremendous violence, though agnmst no visible object, and like a dreadful echo a shriek of horror burst from every part of the ship. Many of those still below were killed at once by their heads being dashed against the sides, and even the roof of the cabin; many on deck were flung into the sea. It was the very crisis of horror and despair.

"To the foretop, for your lives," exclaimed Pearce to the two young people.

"Go, Mr. Gresham, go," cried Elise; "you have already done your best for me. I cannot climb the shrouds." " It is probable you never tried," observed the American. Gresham's only reply was to lift her in his arms, and, aided by Pearce and her own exertions, they managed to make their way through the terrified crowd to the forecastle. The crew had already fled there, and were running up the rigging in swarms. The top was occupied at once by as many as it would hold. With the help of the two men, however, Elise climbed to the very foot of it, and out of the reach of the waves that now swept the ship from stem to stern.

" There is a woman here," said Gresham to those above; " is there not a man among you who will give up his place?" There was no answer, except from the American from below. " No, they won't, I bet. They will never oblige a lady even by so much as a seat in a car. You are better where you are, Miss," he added, in a lower tone, "if your young man will only lash you to the rigging." For this purpose Gresham had nothing but a handkerchief, supplemented by the strength of bis own arms.

"I can hold you on till daylight, Elise," he whispered, " and longer. While I have life I will keep life in you." "Next to God, I trust in you," she answered, simply. It was fortunate that she had more than- one friend, for though every inch above them was occupied by clinging limbs, the wretched people below endeavoured to make their way up, and even to climb over their very bodies. The horrors of their situation, rocked by every blow of the sea, and drenched with its spray, was aggravated by the pitiful cries which burst from those around them. From the broken skylight above the cabin, miserable groans still issued, and now and then a sharp shriek of agony: " My child, my little one, is drowned!" was one of them, which went to Elise's heart. For the most part they were cries wrung by necessity from human throats, but now and then there was an ejaculation of frenzied terror. For instance, a young fellow immediately below the American suddenly exclaimed that the ship was breaking to pieces.

"Let it break," answered the Yankee, con- temptuously; "you'll keep whole enough, I'll warrant" It was curious to observe what an effect this one man's coolness and quaint good sense had upon those around him, notwithstanding the peril and misery of their position. That they were on a rock, and a hidden one, was all of which the best informed were conscious. The force of the wave that had just thrown them upon it had been such as to carry the whole vessel on to the reef ; other- wise, had part only been driven on to it, and part left on a lower level exposed to the breach of the sea, the ship would have been torn asunder in a few minutes. Thanks to the lowness of the tide, the masts and rigging stood out of water, and were only washed to any height by some excep- tionally huge wave, but in the meantime it was only too plain that the ship's timbers were giving way under the reiterated blows of the sea. The wind was as keen as it was furious, and the cold soon began to tell upon these poor creatures, many of whom had rushed from below but scantily clad.

Only a few women besides Elise Hurt had ob- tained a footing on the shrouds at all, and one by one, overcome by fatigue and fear, these relaxed their hold of the ropes, and were whirled away into the raging deep, as often as not in silence.

The two men bade Elise shut her eyes, under pre- tence of her thus obtaining a little rest, but in reality to prevent her witnessing these distressing scenes. More than once, however, a man came tumbling down from the foretop or the shrouds more immediately above them, and that so close as to imperil her own safety in his descent into his watery tomb. The cold had benumbed the hands of these poor fellows, and they had become too weak, from exhaustion and hunger, to retain their positions.

And here it was that the forethought of the American stood Gresham and his companion in good stead. Not only did the young fellow insist upon her partaking of the viands with which he had filled his pockets, but also administered, under Mr. Pearce's directions, an amount of brandy which, in other circumstances, would have had a most unpleasant effect upon any young lady's organisation.

"' The blood is the life,' says the Scripture, were Mr. Pearce's words ; "and the brandy is the blood upon this occasion; you needn't be afraic of taking too much, ma'am.

Elise, though very unwillingly, being as tem- perate as all German maidens are, took what was given her, which, after all, was not so very much for what with the swaying of the mast, and the numbness of Gresham's hands, much of the liquor missed the mouth it was aimed at. Nor was il only the young man's hands that were numb, for his feet had become like marble, and in compliance with his request, Elise more than once had to stamp upon them to restore their circulation That she herself was exempt from this incon- venience of course proved the care that the other took of her, in which it must be acknowledged that he was greatly assisted by Mr. Pearce.

It was strange to see how during those weary ours these three were drawn together—almost as much mentally as physically—by the circum- tances of that supreme occasion. Each spoke to he other of himself and of hia private affairs, with a frankness and confidence that they could iot have used after six weeks of ordinary otercourse.

" If you get to land, Mr. Gresham," said Elise, : send a few words of tender farewell for me to my good aunt;" and she gave him her address with methodical exactness.

"If I live, Elise, you will live," returned the 'oung fellow, simply. "It would be no self- acrifice to perish in trying to save you, since life without you would not be worth having." He spoke with earnestness as well as fervour, and was quite unconscious of any extravagance of expression. In such sublime moments the emotions ecome, as it were, condensed: his whole previous existence appeared divided into parts; during one art he had known Elise Hurt; during the other he had not known her. And the former part monopolised his thoughts.

" Do not talk so," answered the girl, reprov- ingly ; "for in my case there is but one person to mourn me, and my good aunt, I am thankful to ;hink, has others to love her. But you—you yourself told me that you have dear friends and relatives " "One relative—a very kind one," interrupted :he young fellow; " and some dear friends, cer- tainly." He hesitated a moment. Should he tell her something he had in his mind, or should he not ? The waves were beating against the doomed vessel more frantically, it seemed, than ever. The tide was rising. No, it was not worth while. "You, Elise, are more than all to me," he added simply.

Presently Gresham, turning to the American, begged him to send the girl's message to her aunt, in case he should be the sole survivor of the three.

" Oh yes," he answered; " and do you two remember, for my sake, the address of Henry Pearce, at the ' Figure Head' Hotel, Charing Cross." Gresham smiled sadly, for small as either of their chances of life were, his chance, bound up as it was with that of the girl, was surely the smaller.

" That is your brother, I suppose," he answered.

"No, sir, it is myself," replied the other, coolly, " The ' Figure Head' is always my address in London town, in case you should want a skipper for a yacht. My friends call me Commodore.

I've got my certificates " Here a great wave filled his mouth with salt water, and blinded all three of them with its spray.

Two more wretched creatures were thrown from their hold by the shock of it, and were carried away in its whirl. These had occupied positions above " the tops," and were worn out with hunger as much as fatigue; those, on the other hand, in Gresham's vicinity, had been supplied, at Elise's entreaty, with the remainder of his provisions.

" It is no use keeping them for me, love," she had whispered, " for death will come to me before hunger returns." Her logic was unanswerable; it was plain that the vessel could now only hold together for a very short time.

Presently " The dawn, the dawn," she moaned in German.

" What is it ?" inquired the American, anxiously.

" Her strength is failing. Give her more brandy." Before Gresham could explain, some one cried out, "The land, the land! And in a moment the coast line became distinct against the

" Great Heaven ! It is Halcombe Point! " exclaimed Gresham.

" It is something to know your bearings," ob- served the American. " What sort of landing do you give to strangers hereabouts ? " " It is a rock-bound shore," answered Gresham, gravely. " The ship must be on the Lancet reef," he murmured. There are people on the pier. Sir Robert " "'Sir Robert'" and 'Halcombe,'" ejaculated Elise. " Is it Sir Robert Arden, of Halcombe Hall, of whom you speak ? " " Yes, dearest; do you know anything of him ? " "It was to his house I was going as gover- ness." "And I am his nephew," said Gresham. The coincidence, strange as it was, did not strike him so forcibly as might be expected ; those words of his companion, " I was going," speaking of herself in the past tense, had saddened him too much to admit of wonder.

" Hold on all," cried the American, in a sharp clear voice. " I see a boat coming—a life- boat." It was well that he had given his warning before he gave his news, for the excitement which his good tidings communicated to the poor -wretches about him passed the bounds of reason. Even as it was, it was with difficulty that some could be persuaded not to cast themselves into the sea to meet the coming succour.

What an apt term is that of Life-boat! How nobly does the god-child prove its right to the name that has been given to it! What an ark of safety does it appear to those for whom the depths of ocean rage and roar—thanks to it—in vain ! In no other visible form do human endeavour and divine intention unite so sublimely. Consider, too, the comparative humility—nay, to all appear- ance, the inadequacy—of the means of salvation.

The "Commodore's" keen eyes and technical knowledge had at once caused him to recognise the nature of the help that was approaching him, but to the ordinary observer it looked scarcely help at all; but merely more of wreck and ruin. Was it possible that that frail boat, now tossed on the foam of some mighty wave, now lost in the trough of the sea, not urged by its rowers at all, but flying before the fury of the gale, could be rescue—life? To those on shore it seemed so, at all events; for though the sound of their cheering could not reach the ears for which they were intended, the poor shipwrecked creatures could see flags waving from the little pier and from the windows of the mill, in token of joyful sympathy. Notwithstanding their evil plight, this moral support—the sympathy of their fellow- creatures—had an inspiring effect; they felt, as it were, that the great heart of humanity was beating high for them. They were not cut off, these things seemed to assure them, from the sunshine, yet.

John Dyueley had not spared Sir Robert's bay mare upon his way to Archester; it was not bis way to push a willing horse to the full extent of its powers, but human life was in the balance that night, and he had not spared the spur. He was a heavy man for so speedy a journey, but his weight had this advantage, that it steadied the gallant bay, against whom such a wind was blowing, broadside on, as had never swept Halcombe Moor within the memory of man.

# * # * * Thus he rode at the bay's best speed along the sandy roads, making occasional short cuts (not free from rabbit-holes) across the heathery moor, till the lights of Archester gleamed before him.

Without drawing rein for an instant, he galloped down the stcny street to the little pier,- which he knew on such a night would have its comple- ment of seafaring men, watching their old enemy, the storm, and in a few words explained his errand.

"A ship on the Lancet, opposite Halcombe Point, and the life-boat wanted; ten pounds a head from Sir Robert to each man that pulls an oar in her." It would doubtless have "looked better in print" had he appealed only to these brave men's sense of duty, and it would have been sufficient, for the mariners of Archester were never back- ward in risking limb and life for their fellow- creatures ; but, on the principle of " surplusage being no error," the curate addressed them as we have described. Morever, it saved time, and time —a few minutes more or less—was of immense importance to all those upon that cruel reef (which, however, had thus far been the cause of their preservation). Time had become, indeed, the alternative of Eternity with them.

A rush was at once made for the boat-shed, where the cork jackets and all other things were kept, and in an incredibly short space of time eight men were ready for this perilous enterprise.

There are two things which expedite human action above all other motive powers—namely, the oppo- sing elements of Fire and Water. The celerity with which a fire-engine is got ready and started is the greatest triumph of human forethought and agility. Next to that is the quickness with which a life-boat is got under weigh. From the shed at Archester were two " slips," one on either side, so that the boat could be launched to north or south, according to the quarter from which the wind was blowing ; the men were in their places, and a score of eager pairs of hands were on her stern and sides ready to run the Swiftsure (contraction of Swift and Sure, I wonder ?) off the truck on which she stood, when the coxswain suddenly roared, " Stop!" There was a man missing; only seven being in the boat beside the coxswain. From the list of the crew hard by (for everything was at hand in that place) he began to read out the names of those absent; "George ParflttV" " Here," answered a ready voice. "You are not George." " No ; he i? ill a-bed ; but I am his brother." " A bold fellow, no doubt; but hardly strong enough for the tight job before us. Henry Ab- solon." " Gone to Mirton," was the reply.

"Hullo, sir, this is quite irregular." This to Dyneley, who had slipped on a cork-jacket and sou'wester cap, and jumped into the boat.

" No matter, coxswain ; I am as strong as any of you, and can pull as good an oar. There is not a moment to lose, I tell you—push off." There was a burst of cheering, which, however, in no way impeded the exertions of those who thus indulged their feelings, for at the same moment the boat began rapidly to move down the slope.

" Steady, steady." The moment she touched the sea it seemed to every man that he was under water. Never since the gallant Swiftsure had been built had she put out in the teeth of such a storm; the wind beat almost dead against the land, and strove with frantic screams and fiendish fury (the prince of the powers of the air being in command that night in person) to dash the boat back on the rocky shore. "She never, never," shrieked the frantic blast, "shall ride the main this night to rob the hungry waves of their human prey." 

Thrice the Svriftsure was cast a score of yards up the strand, then withdrawn like a plaything which a child throws from it only to pursue and clutch again, but the fourth time the oar-blades and the strong arms that used them were plied to such a good purpose that she was flung back no more.

" Steady, men, steady," cries the coxswain, for rowing against a moving mountain range renders time more difficult to keep than between Barnes and Putney; " once round the Point the wind will do our work for us." This was satisfactory so far as it went, but made it clear to every man (if he had not known it before) that the return to Archester against the wind would be a physical impossibility. After performing their perilous mission, should that be practicable, they would have to go on to Mirton Harbour (twenty miles away) if they should reach harbour at all, since to try Halcombe Point would be to go to pieces.

Such things are trifles to the heroes who man our life-boats, and we ashore think still less of them, but supposing even the case of a country doctor robbed of his night's rest by a summons to a sick bed, and compelled to ride twenty miles in a storm which did not admit of his return, we should call it a hard one ; add to this utmost fatigue of body and extreme peril of life, and give the laurel where it is due.

Once round the Point the Swiftsure flew before the wind, as though, instead of being a bare boat, she were a racing cutter. She was following, in fact, the very route of the Bhineland, only the sea had a very different customer to deal with. The waves filled her again and again, but her escape- pipes freed her from the deluge as quickly as it was poured in ; they threw her on her side, but she made light of that, and even had they thrown her over she would have righted again in half a second—though, unhappily, empty.

Thus hurried along at headlong speed, it was no wonder that, in a shorter time than it had taken the mare and her rider to cross the moor, the one man in the boat to whom the use of his eyes was not denied—for the eight rowers, we may be sure, cast no look behind them—exclaimed, " There she is, boys!" And there she was ; half of her—the stern part —now covered by the rising waves, and the other half, now hid, now seen, with a bare mast sticking out of it, covered with human beings, like bees in swarm. The sea was running like a mill race, and the sharp reef beneath it.

" I doubt if we can get nigh her," ejaculated the coxswain.

" There are women on board," observed Number Six. who was the curate.

"Never fear, Master Dyneley, but we'll do what man can do to save "em," was the reply, not with- out a certain haughtiness in its tone. The waves and winds could be discounted, as it were, as a source of peril, but whether there was water enough above the rock to float the life-boat to leeward of the wreck, was an experiment not to be reckoned upon, but only tried. If they shot by her, it was plain they could not put back again in the teeth of such a gale, ere the flowing tide should engulf the last spar of the Rhineland.

" Steady; be ready to ship oars and out with the grappling irons." The next minute they were under her quarter, and had made fast to it.

"The women first!" cried the coxswain, in a voice of thunder. There were but three women left, and none of these could move across the rocking deck without men to help them. The first two were carried, rather than led, and lifted into the Swiftsare; the third, Elise, used her own | limbs, though stiff and cramped, upheld on either I side by the American and Gresham.

[ All sat where they were placed, without a word, | as though astounded (as they well might be) at I their own deliverance. The wreck was clear of all save one man, who clung to the mast apparently stupefied.

" Quick, quick !" exclaimed half a dozen voices.

i He never moved.

"Are we all to be drowned for one fool?" | ejaculated the coxswain, passionately. " Cast off, "One moment, sirree," cried the clear shrill voice of the American. He leapt back on the wreck, seized the still hesitating man round the waist, and fairly threw him among the rest.

"It's the poor cap'en, coxen ; he don't like to leave his ship," said he, apologetically. "I've felt the same myself—especially when I've had a share in her." j As the boat once more flew before the wind, its occupants could see a little group upon the quay ' of Halcombe, whose joy appeared only second to : their own. These persons, of course, knew not ; how many of the crew had succumbed to the | waves, or to the fatigues and privations of the j night; they only saw that every soul upon the | wreck had been taken off, and was in comparative I safety. They were well aware that on their cruel | shore no boat could land in such a sea, but to I many of the poor shivering creatures on board the ' Swiftsure it seemed strange enough that they ! should be turning their backs on these hospitable ' and friendly people.

i * * * * * i The accommodation on board life-boats is in | extent considerable, but it is not of a select or private character. Rescued folks settle down where they can, and are seldom found to complain of their quarters. The craft is broad of beam, and there is room for passengers, even in the very centre of it, without interfering with the rowers.

***** Presently they came in sight of Mirton, a pic- j turesque village, built in zig-zag up steep cliffs ; : but with a good harbour and breakwater. Once within shelter of the latter the mountain waves lost their crests, the gale thundered harmless { above their heads. With a few more strokes of the oar they reached the side of the little jetty, where a few men were gathered together in the grey dawn.

1 Gresham and the Commodore assisted Elisc to ! land, and were escorting her up the winding street to the little inn, when they were overtaken by one of the crew, who seemed about to address them.

" I will see you in five minutes, my good fel- low," said Gresham. " For the brave work you and your mates have done this night, no reward can be sufficient, but What! Dyneley ? " " Yes, it is I," answered the curate, removing his sou'wester. " I could scarcely believe my eyes , when I saw you step into the boat; and when I , felt sure of your identity I had no breath for even ' a word of recognition." j Then Gresham remembered that the features of this man had seemed somewhat familiar to him ; | he had had other things to think about, or else there had been plenty of opportunities of ob- serving him, for he had sat cheek-by-jowl with " Number Six " for the last two hours.".