recording the barest facts when I say that the response of
'Good Lord, deliver us,' following that most solemn of all the
petitions of the Litany, was touching beyond the power of words to
describe. In the midst of the service I stopped and said, 'Has any man
another suggestion to offer? Shall we telegraph for the Dover tug?'
It was seen after a short discussion that this would be unavailing, and
the service went on.

The hymns sung at that service were three in number, and perhaps are
familiar to those who read this story:--

Light in the darkness, sailor!
Day is at hand,

being the well-known 'Life-boat' hymn;

Rescue the perishing;

and then

Jesu, lover of my soul.

No man present could fail to think at each part of the service, and as
each hymn was sung, of the poor forlorn figure seen on the Goodwins,
and now in the most dire need of help. Nor do I think that service
will ever fade from the memories of those present on that Tuesday
evening.

Service over, we all went to the front of the lifeboat-house, and the
coxswain and myself once more consulted. We stood just down at the
water's edge, where the white surf showed up against the black night,
and fell heavily on the shingle, resounding.

We asked, 'Had Ramsgate gone to the rescue?'

'Why was there no flare burning if there were any one or any vessel on
the Goodwins?'

'Why the dull oppressive silence and absence of all signs of signals of
distress?'

Looking up the beach we saw the black mass of boatmen all gathered
round the door of the lifeboat-house, and we heard their shouts, 'Throw
open the doors!' 'Let us have the key!' 'Why not give us the
life-belts now?'

Finally we decided to launch at exactly nine o'clock. I went home to
dress for the night, having arranged to go in the lifeboat. Meantime
the bell was rung, and the usual rush was made to get the life-belts.
So keen were the men that the launch was made before the time agreed
upon, and the lifeboat rushed down the beach just as I got in sight of
her--to my great and sore disappointment--and soon disappeared in the
night.

They stood on till they reached the inner edge of the Goodwins, along
which they tacked, being helped to windward, and swept towards the
north by the weather-tide, which they met about eleven o'clock. As
they worked their way into Trinity Bay, a sort of basin in the very
heart of the Goodwins, the coxswain felt sure they were drawing near
the s