increasing
daylight. They did not put off time in transferring the saved men to
the steamer. The big hawser,--their familiar bond of attachment,--was
made fast to them, and away went that noble big brother and splendid
little sister straight for Ramsgate harbour. [See note 2.]

But the work of that wild night was not yet finished. On their way home
they fell in with a schooner, the foretopmast and bowsprit of which were
gone. As she was drifting towards the sands they hailed her. No reply
being made, the lifeboat was towed alongside, and, on being boarded, it
was found that she was a derelict. Probably she had got upon the sands
during the night, been forsaken by her crew in their own boat--in which
event there was small chance of any being saved--and had drifted off
again at the change of the tide.

Be that as it might, six lifeboat men were put on board. Finding no
water in her, they slipt her two cables, which were hanging from the
bow, a rope was made fast to the steamer, and she was taken in tow.

It was drawing towards noon when they neared the harbour. Very
different indeed was the aspect of things there then from what it had
been when they went out on their errand of mercy thirteen hours before.
Although the gale was still blowing fresh it had moderated greatly. The
black clouds no longer held possession of the sky, but were pierced,
scattered, and gilded, as they were rolled away, by the victorious sun.
The sea still raged and showed its white "teeth" fiercely, as if its
spirit had been too much roused to be easily appeased; but blue sky
appeared in patches everywhere; the rain had ceased, and the people of
the town and visitors swarmed out to enjoy the returning sunshine,
inhale the fresh sea-breeze, and await, anxiously, the return of the
lifeboat--for, of course, every one in the town was aware by that time
that she had been out all night.

When, at length, the smoke of the "big brother" was observed drawing
near, the people flocked in hundreds to the piers and cliffs.--Wherever
a point of vantage was to be had, dozens of spectators crowned it.
Wherever a point of danger was to be gained, daring spirits--chiefly in
the shape of small boys--took it by storm, in absolute contempt of the
police. "Jacob's Ladder"--the cliff staircase--was crowded from top to
bottom. The west pier was rendered invisible to its outer extremity by
human beings. The east pier, as far as it was dry, was covered by th