"The ship has taken a soft berth; she lies on the sand, and there is no present danger of her sinking; indeed we are in much too shoal water for that. Mr Leigh, we must get the wreckage cleared away first of all, after which we will get out kedge anchors astern; and if these fail us we will run out cables to the other vessels. Perchance we may thus get ourselves off by our own hauling and the others towing. But we must all work with a will; for, as all may see, there is in the look of the sky every prospect of ill weather very shortly, and if it take us ashore like this we shall lose the ship! Now, Roger, take you two hands in the gig--I cannot spare more--and bring off that poor fellow. I would that we had earlier understood what he meant; it would have saved us this disaster. And hasten, lad, for I cannot spare even three of you for a single moment longer than is absolutely necessary. Yet must I have that man, for he may possess information of untold worth to us. And you, Mr Leigh, will take two hands also, and go off to the other vessels. You will acquaint them with our condition, and give them their orders to prepare for towing, and to be ready by the moment when we can avail ourselves of their help, for we have no time to waste." Roger soon found his two men, and the boat was got ready and over the side in a very few minutes; yet, quick as he had been, he perceived as he pushed off that Mr Leigh's boat was already some distance on her way to the other ships. "Now, give way, men, with a will!" cried the lad, encouragingly. "You heard what Mr Cavendish said--there is not a moment to lose if we are to get that man off, and the ship too, ere the gale breaks. And indeed I like not the look of the weather at all. It fast grows more threatening, and we shall be lucky if we get back to the fleet in time. Furthermore, I fear much that there will not be time to save the poor old _Stag Royal_: she is, to my mind, hopelessly lost, for, if appearance belie it not, the gale will be down on us ere they can hope to move her off the sand; and I pray God that the poor fellows on board her may be able to get away from her in time. Ah, the wind comes away even now! Pull, lads, pull, or we shall be swamped ere we can get ashore!" As he spoke, the whole sky seemed to darken in a moment all round them; the sea took on the appearance of dull metal and became of a livid hue. Away on the north-western horizon the sky was black as ink, and below that, between sky and wave, was a line of white extending athwart the horizon, showing the forefront of the advancing gale. "Pull, lads, pull!" again shouted Roger, raising his voice above the deep moaning sound that filled the air everywhere about them. "Unless we can contrive to reach the shore before that line of white, you know what our fate will be. We shall have to wait until the gale blows over before we can return to the ships, if indeed they survive it."