No one attended to her. At such terrible moments men cannot afford to
wait on indecision. Other women were ready and only too glad to go.
With a sense almost of relief at the thought that separation was now
impossible, the widow strained the child to her bosom and clung to her
old father.

At that moment the report of a pistol was heard, and a man fell dead
upon the deck. At the last moment he had resolved to risk all and
rushed to the side, intending to jump into the boat.

"Shove off," was shouted. The boat shot from the vessel's side. The
bowman hauled on the cable. In a few seconds the oars were shipped, the
anchor was got in, and the overloaded but insubmergible craft
disappeared into the darkness out of which it had come.

The wretched people thus left on the wreck knew well that the boat could
not make her port, land the rescued party, and return for them under
some hours. They also knew that the waves were increasing in power and
volume with the rising water, and that their vessel could not survive
another tide. Can we wonder that most of them again gave way to
despair--forgetting that with God "all things are possible?"

They were not yet forsaken, however. On the pier-head at Greyton their
signals had indeed been observed, but while the Brentley boat, owing to
its position, could run down to the wreck with all sail set, it was
impossible for that of Greyton to reach it, except by pulling slowly
against wind and tide.

The instant that Bob Massey saw the flare of the first tar-barrel he had
called out his men. One after another they came leaping over the
rocks--eager for the God-like work of saving life.

It is one of the grand characteristics of our lifeboatmen that on being
summoned to the fight there are often far more volunteers than are
required. Joe Slag, as in duty bound, was first to answer the call.
Then several of the younger men came running down. Last of all--almost
too late--Tom Riley appeared, buckling on his lifebelt as he ran. His
gait was not quite steady, and his face was flushed. The coxswain was
quick to note these facts.

"Take that lifebelt off!" he said, sternly, when Riley came up.

No need to ask why. The tippler knew the reason why only too well, and
he also knew that it was useless, as well as dangerous, to disobey the
coxswain. He took off the belt at once, flung it down, and staggered
away back to his grog-shop.

A powerful young fisherman--who had felt