Swish--h--h went the lifeboat, as the dripping oars were lifted, feathered, and dipped again. The shellbacks, in regular time, gave a muffled deep sigh, as they are wont to do after the tremendous exertion of a stiff pull. Click-clack went the rollocks, as they shied and swerved in their sockets--a long whirr-r--the order given ‘_Rowed all_’--a rumbling noise, as the oars were shipped on the thwarts, and the baby and her preserver were lifted by strong arms from the embrace of the treacherous ocean, and hauled safely into the boat. ‘Now, give way, lads, merrily,’ said Sparkes, as Vernon Blythe seated himself with the youngster on his knee, and the wiry saltfish, with a cheer for the second officer, set themselves with renewed vigour to their task. They had warmed to their work by this time. The perspiration stood in large beads upon their foreheads, and their blades went forward in clock-work time. Little Winifred, with her head resting upon Vernon’s breast, gave vent to plaintive sobs, burying her face in the wet folds of the young sailor’s shirt, and at intervals peeping out as the _Pandora_ hove-to in the distance. ‘Ship--wouldn’t--wait--for baby,’ she said, whimpering, as she glanced up into Jack’s face. ‘She will now,’ replied Vernon, smiling; ‘you went too fast for the poor ship, baby, but she stopped as soon as ever she found you had tumbled overboard. Poor mite,’ he added kindly, as he kissed her scared face; ‘it was a narrow shave for you.’ ‘Brother Jack found me,’ said Winnie, with another little sob. Her sister had taught her to call him ‘_brother_’ long ago at Southsea, and as Vernon heard her now, he smiled almost sadly, to think how prematurely the appellation had been applied.