rried the main-sheet aft, and felt that the tiller was securely fixed.
Taking out his knife, he held it in his teeth--he had sharpened it
afresh the previous evening. With one hand holding the main halyards,
with a stroke he severed the cable, then as the boat paid off up went
his mainsail and he sprang aft to the helm. The sheet was eased off.
The hissing seas followed fast astern. In another minute he would be
among the raging breakers, and then safe on shore, or, what was too
probable, whirled and tossed and tumbled over and over as he and the
fragments of his boat were carried back in their cruel embrace.

Mr and Mrs Tremayne and their daughter had reached the little hotel at
the Lizard Head, when they heard that a small boat had been seen in a
fearfully perilous position anchored at a short distance outside the
breakers. They hastened down to the beach, where some of the
coast-guard men and several other persons were collected.

They made inquiries as to the probability of the boat reaching the shore
in safety.

"Not the slightest hope through such a surf as this," was the answer.

"Who is on board?" asked Mr Tremayne.

"It seems to be a young lad, as far as we can make out," said a
coast-guard man. "His best chance is to hold on till low water, when,
as there will be a pretty broad piece of sand, if the wind goes down, he
may happen to get in without being swamped."

"But if the wind does not go down, and the weather still looks
threatening, what can he do?"

"His fate will be that of many another poor fellow," said the man. "He
is a brave young chap, though, or he would not have brought up in the
way he did. I have not once seen him waving his arms or seeming to be
crying out for help, as most would be."

"Can he be young Michael Penguyne, of whom we have just heard!"
exclaimed Mrs Tremayne. "Oh, can nothing be done to save him?"

"Will none of you fine fellows launch a boat and go out and try and
bring in the boy?" asked Mr Tremayne. "I will give twenty pounds to
the crew of the boat which brings him in."

"I am sorry, sir, that I cannot allow my men to go out," said the
officer of the coast-guard, who heard the offer made. "We should not
have waited for a reward if it could be done, but the best boat we have
would be swamped to a certainty, and the lives of all her crew
sacrificed. I much regret being compelled to say this; there is not a
man here who would not do his best to save the life