y replenished their water-casks. Their supper, as on the
previous evening, consisted of roast seal and a few roots cooked in the
ashes, washed down with tea boiled in an iron bowl which had served as a
baler for the boat. The night as it advanced became even more
tempestuous than the preceding one. A few bough-tops served to keep
them off the damp ground, and on these as many as could find room lay
down to sleep, while the rest sat up keeping watch over the fire. Peter
Patch finding the flag, which had been hauled down at sunset, wrapped
himself up in it--a fortunate circumstance, as it afterwards proved,
although the midshipman's object was of a purely self-interested nature.
No songs were sung that evening, and though a few yarns were spun, they
were often wonderfully long-drawn, the drowsy listeners scarcely
comprehending the drawling words which struck on their ears. The night
passed slowly by. They were thankful that the boat had been drawn up on
the beach, and placed, as they hoped, in safety, out of the reach of the
sea.

The gale increased, thunder roared, and lightning flashed, and the whole
harbour, as far as the eye could reach, was lashed into fury.

"I don't like the look of things, Mr Shafto," observed the boatswain to
Harry, who had just sat up to make room for others. "If the sea was to
reach the boat it would soon knock her into splinters. I cannot stand
it any longer. With your leave, sir, I'll go and see if she is all
safe."

Saying this, Bollard started up, Paul Lizard following him. In a short
time they were heard shouting, and all the party hurried down to join
them, Peter Patch, very unwilling to be roused, bringing up the rear,
wrapped, to keep himself warm, in the flag which he had appropriated.
They were not a moment too soon. The foaming water had already reached
the stern of the boat, and was every now and then lifting her up and
letting her fall again on the sandy beach. In a few minutes more she
would have been carried away or knocked to pieces. By great exertion
they managed to haul her up out of the reach of the surf, though every
now and then the water washed up almost round her in a sheet of foam.
As it was high tide, they had hopes she would remain safe during the
night. Still, although drenched to the skin, they were unwilling to
leave her when so much depended on her preservation. Again and again
they tried to drag her further up. They were still standing round her,