furiously that their noise, mingled with the blast, created a din which
can only be described as a prolonged and hideous roar.

The night was extremely dark, and bitterly cold. Heavy seas continually
burst over the steamer's bulwarks, and swept her deck from stem to
stern. The little lifeboat, far astern, was dragged by the strong
hawser through a wild turmoil of water and spray. The men nestling
under the gunwales clung to the thwarts and maintained their position,
although sea after sea broke over them and well nigh washed them out.

At length they reached the light-ship; hailed her and were told that the
wreck was on a high part of the shingles, bearing north-west from the
light. Away they went in that direction, but, being unable to find her,
made their way to the Prince's light-ship, where they were told there
was a large ship on the Girdler. Once more they steamed in the
direction indicated, and soon discovered the wreck by the tar-barrels
which she was burning. Just as they sighted her an enormous sea broke
over the steamer with such violence as to stop her way for a moment, and
cause her strong frame to quiver.

"Look out, lads!" cried the coxswain of the lifeboat, as the black water
loomed up between them and the tug.

The men grasped the thwarts more firmly as a tremendous sea filled the
boat to the gunwale. At this moment the checked steamer again leaped on
her way; the stout hawser parted like a piece of twine, and the lifeboat
was left behind. Hoisting the corner of its small sail they made for
the wreck. No time was lost in bailing, as would have been the case
with the boats of former years; a few seconds sufficed to empty her.

The wind was now blowing a complete hurricane with a terrific sea on,
the horrors of which were increased by the darkness of the night, so
that it was with the utmost difficulty they succeeded in getting
alongside. The wreck was a coasting vessel with a crew of eighteen men.
There were no women or children, so they were got into the boat without
much loss of time, and safely conveyed to the tug which lay to for her
little consort, about three-quarters of a mile off.

The lifeboat was again taken in tow, and they proceeded together towards
Ramsgate, when another gun and signal-rocket recalled them to continue
their arduous duties.

The sleet of a winter's night beat furiously in the faces of these
boatmen, as already much exhausted, they once again faced the storm.