in the night I could see that he was bent and weak.

"Are you all here?" I asked, when he had reached the top.

The old man who had last come up looked around him, and then cried out:

"But where is Miss Ruth?"

"Miss Ruth?" gasped two or three; "is she not here?"

"No woman has come up," I replied.

"Then Miss Ruth is still on the vessel," cried the old man. "Wretch,
wretch, that I am to leave her."

"But she left the vessel," replied another; "why, Tom Poltewan said he
was going to help her down."

"She said she must get something from the cabin," said another, "and I
didn't see her. I thought Mr. Inch would be sure to take care of her."

Then followed a confusion of tongues, and in the storm I did not
distinguish what was said. Evidently in the great anxiety to escape
death a woman had been overlooked. But she must be rescued. The work
which had been begun must be completed. Surely God who had helped us
thus far would not desert us now?

What was to be done, however, had to be done quickly. The vessel had
struck on a great rock, the billows were sweeping over her, and she
might go to pieces any minute. The storm, although it had not yet
reached its full height, was rapidly rising, the wind blew louder and
louder, until we could scarcely hear each other speak. The men we had
saved were battered and bruised and nearly unconscious. As I think of
it now it is a wonder to me that they escaped death.

I tied the rope round my waist, and then asked Bill to lower me down by
the slippery rock. At first he objected to this, but I insisted, and
soon stood upon a broad flat ledge which was close to the wreck.

My object now was to get upon the vessel, but that was not easy of
accomplishment; the great breakers were constantly sweeping over the
vessel, and I began to despair of rendering assistance. I determined
to try, however, and after many vain attempts, reached the deck. To
look for anyone there was madness. No woman could stay in such a
place. Either she had been swept away or she must be down below. In
spite of storm and darkness I found my way there. The vessel was half
full of water, and I felt that it would be worse than useless to
attempt to find anyone in the darkness. Just then I heard a cry for
help.

I cannot describe what followed. I have a dim recollection of grasping
a cold hand, of struggling to the deck, of holding fast by the broken
mast, and of a terrible wave that swept me