ged that night.
The sea threatened to bury her altogether as she pushed off through the
breakers, and some of the men seemed to think it would be too much for
them. A man named Davis took the helm; he had saved many a life on that
coast in his day.

The intense darkness of the night, coupled with the fury of the winds
and waves, were such that no men, save those who were used to such
scenes, would have believed it possible that any boat could live in so
wild a storm. In addition to this the cold was excessive, and the spray
broke over them so continuously that the pump had to be kept going in
order to prevent their getting filled altogether.

It was a long weary pull to the Gull light-ship. When they reached it
they hailed those on board, and asked where away the wreck was.

"Right down to leeward, on the Sand-head," was the reply.

Away went the lugger before the gale with just a corner of the foresail
hoisted. It was not long before they came in sight of the breakers on
the Sands. Here they were obliged to put out the oars and exercise the
utmost caution, lest they should incur the fate from which they had come
out to rescue others. Davis knew the shoals and channels well, and
dropped down as far as he dared, but no wreck of any kind was to be
seen.

"D'ye see anything?" shouted Davis to Long Orrick, who was in the bow.

Orrick's reply was inaudible, for the shrieking of the gale, and the
roar of breakers drowned his voice.

At that moment a huge wave broke at a considerable distance ahead of
them, and against its white crest something like the mast of a vessel
was discerned for an instant.

"God help them!" muttered Davis to himself; "if they're as far as that
on the sands there's no chance for them, unless, indeed, the Broadstairs
or Ramsgate lifeboat finds 'em out. Let go the anchors!" he shouted;
"look sharp, lads!"

The anchor was let go, and the lugger was veered down by its cable as
far in the direction of the wreck as possible, but the boat was so large
and drew so much water that they could not even get within sight of the
wreck. In these circumstances the men nestled as they best might under
the lee of the boat's sides, and prepared to ride out the storm, or at
least to remain at anchor there until day-light should enable them to
act with more precision and safety.

Fortunately for all parties concerned, other eyes and ears had been on
the watch that night. At Broadstairs, which lies a l