ack of the sails preparatory to our passing the gaskets when we
got aloft, thus enabling us to furl all the canvas, and make everything
snug in less time than I take to tell of it.

In the meanwhile our commander made himself busy in other ways, the
cutter being lowered and a party of seamen and boys sent in her with a
kedge to drop astern and try to warp off; the port bower anchor being
dropped at the same time, and a spring set on the cable, which was
buoyed so that we could slip it in a moment in the event of her suddenly
floating.

A `distant signal' was also hoisted at the main, consisting of a square
flag on top with a ball below, which meant that we were aground and
wanted assistance, to let the men on watch at the Hurst Castle signal-
station know what was up with us; and, in addition, our smart commanding
officer put on a party of boys at the pumps, to see whether the brig
might not have strained her timbers and sprung a leak, through working
about on the nasty sand bottom of the Brambles.

This latter precaution, however, proved a useless one; for the gang of
eager lads working away with a will at the crank-handles of the pumps,
soon cleared the little amount of water that was in the bilge, and the
shaft sucked dry.

"Ther' ain't a drop in her," reported Mr Tarbolt, the quarter-master,
`old Jellybelly,' as we called him amongst ourselves. "I don't think,
sir, as how she's made a h'inch since we passed the Needles and last
cleared ship."

"Very good, quarter-master," said the commander; "you can stop pumping."

The chaps who had gone off in the cutter had been equally spry with
their job, bending on a stout hemp hawser through the ring of the kedge
anchor, which they dropped some half a cable's length from the brig,
bringing back the other end aboard, where it was put round the capstan
on the forecastle.

This was at once manned, there being no want of volunteers, every one of
us wanting to have a turn at the capstan bars, even before Mr Gadgett,
the gunner, who was on duty forward, gave the word.

But it was a case of `yo heave' and `paul' in vain, the hemp cable
coming home as taut as possible, and then surging off the capstan
without moving the poor little _Martin_ a hair's-breadth from her sandy
bed.

"We must get out the stream anchor, Mr Gadgett," sang out the
commander. "Look alive there and rig out the davits, and send some
hands into the cutter to stow the anchor properly when we lower it