e ready for more work. At a quarter past eight p.m. the
telegram was received by the harbour-master. The signal was given. The
lifeboat-men rushed to their boats.

"First come, first served," is the rule there. She was over-manned, and
some of the brave fellows had to leave her. The tight little tug took
the boat in tow, and in less than half an hour rushed out with her into
the intense darkness, right in the teeth of tempest and billows.

The engines of the Aid are powerful, like her whole frame. Though
fiercely opposed she battled out into the raging sea, now tossed on the
tops of the mighty waves, now swallowed in the troughs between.
Battered by the breaking crests, whelmed at times by "green seas,"
staggering like a drunken thing, and buffeted by the fierce gale, but
never giving way an inch, onward, steadily if slowly, until she rounded
the North Foreland. Then the rescuers saw the signals going up
steadily, regularly, from the two lightships. No cessation of these
signals until they should be answered by signals from the shore.

All this time the lifeboat had been rushing, surging, and bounding in
the wake of her steamer. The seas not only roared around her, but
absolutely overwhelmed her. She was dragged violently over them, and
sometimes right through them. Her crew crouched almost flat on the
thwarts, and held on to prevent being washed overboard. The stout cable
had to be let out to its full extent to prevent snapping, so that the
mist and rain sometimes prevented her crew from seeing the steamer,
while cross seas met and hurled her from side to side, causing her to
plunge and kick like a wild horse.

About midnight the Tongue lightship was reached and hailed. The answer
given was brief and to the point: "A vessel in distress to the
nor'-west, supposed to be on the high part of the Shingles Sand!"

Away went the tug and boat to the nor'-west, but no vessel could be
found, though anxious hearts and sharp and practised eyes were strained
to the uttermost. The captain of the Aid, who knew every foot of the
sands, and who had medals and letters from kings and emperors in
acknowledgment of his valuable services, was not to be balked easily.
He crept along as close to the dangerous sands as was consistent with
the safety of his vessel.

How intently they gazed and listened both from lifeboat and steamer, but
no cry was to be heard, no signal of distress, nothing but the roaring
of the waves and