h extreme violence.
Rocket after rocket had been sent up, until the drenching seas had
rendered the firing of them impossible. The foremast had already gone
by the board, carrying most of the crew with it. On the cross-trees of
the mainmast only two remained--a man and a woman, who could barely
maintain their hold as the battered craft swayed from side to side.

"The end comes at last, darling Mary," said the man, as he grasped the
woman tightly with one arm and the mast with the other.

"No, father--not yet," gasped the woman; "see--the lifeboat! I felt
sure that God would send it."

On came the gallant little craft. There was just light enough to enable
those on the wreck to see dimly her white and blue sides as she laboured
through the foam towards them.

"They have missed us, father; they don't see us!" cried the girl.

The blast blew her long hair about, adding wildness to the look of alarm
which she cast on the man while speaking.

"Nay, darling, it's all right. They've only pulled a bit to wind'ard.
Keep on praying, Mary."

When well to windward of the wreck the anchor of the lifeboat was let
go, and they began to drop down towards the vessel by the cable. Then,
for the first time, the men could draw a long breath and relax their
efforts at the oars, for wind and waves were now in their favour, though
they still dashed and tossed and buffeted them.

Soon they were nearly alongside, and the man on the cross-trees was
heard to shout, but his words could not be made out.

What could it be that caused Jo Grain's heart to beat against his strong
ribs with the force of a sledge-hammer and his eyes to blaze with
excitement, as he turned on his thwart and crouched like a tiger ready
to spring?

There was tremendous danger in drawing near: for, at one moment, the
boat rushed up on a sea as if about to plunge through the rigging of the
vessel, and the next she was down in a seething caldron, with the black
hull looming over her. It was observed that the two figures aloft,
which could barely be seen against the dark sky, were struggling with
some difficulty. They had lashed themselves to the mast, and their
benumbed fingers could not undo the fastenings.

"Haul off!" shouted the coxswain, as the boat was hurled with such force
towards the vessel's hull that destruction seemed imminent.

"No, hold on!" roared Jo Grain.

The men obeyed their coxswain, but as the boat heaved upwards Jo sprang
with all h