of
the first great sea. And then she vanishes into the darkness. God
speed her on her glorious errand!

Close-reefed mizzen and double-reefed storm foresail was the canvas
under which the lifeboat that night struggled with the storm, to reach
the vessel on the Brake Sand. 'She did fly along, sir, that night, but
we were too late! The flare went out when we were half-way!' Alas!
alas! while the gallant crew were flying on the wings of mercy and of
hope to the rescue, the vessel broke up and vanished with all hands in
the deep.

The lifeboat cruised round and round in the breakers, but all in vain.
The crew gazed and peered into the gloom and listened, and then they
shouted all together, but they could hardly hear each other's voices,
and there was no answer; all had perished, and rescue close at hand!

Suddenly there was a lift in the rain, and between them and the land
they saw another flare, 'Down with the foresheet! All hands to the
foresheet! Now down with the mizzen sheet!' cried the coxswain, and
ten men flew to the sheets. As the lifeboat luffed she lay over to her
very bearings, beating famously to windward on her second errand of
mercy.

It was about midnight, and there was 'a terrible nasty sea,' and a
great run under the lifeboat as she neared the land; and the coxswains
made out the dim form of a large vessel burning her flare, with masts
gone and the sea beating over her.

Once again the lifeboat was put about, and came up into the wind's eye,
the foresail was got down and the other foresail hoisted on the other
side and sheeted home, sails, sheets and blocks rattling furiously in
the gale, and forwards on the other tack into the spume and sea-drift
the lifeboat 'ratched.' Between them and the vessel that was burning
her signal of distress, the keen eyes of the lifeboatmen discerned an
object in the sea, 'not more than fifty fathoms off, as much as ever it
was, it was that bitter dark!' Another wreck! 'Let us save them at
any rate!' said the storm-beaten lifeboatmen, as a feeble cry was heard.

The anchor was dropped. The lifeboat was then veered down on her cable
a distance of eighty fathoms, and the object in the sea was found to be
a forlorn wreck. Her lee deck bulwarks were deep under water, and even
her weather rail was low down to the sea.

The wreck was a French brig, the D'Artagnan, as was afterwards
ascertained, and on coming close it was seen her masts were still
standing, bu