On the afternoon of the election day it rained, and the guests were compelled to remain in the cabin; but the young officers who were not on duty did their best to entertain them. At night a dense fog set in; but the wind was fair, and the squadron held on its course, and having the starboard tacks aboard, the fog-horns were blown every two minutes. The next morning, at seven bells, pilots were taken, just as the fog began to lift, though it still lay over the land on the port bow. Repeated whistles, as of a steamer, were heard from this direction, and the pilot of the ship declared that some vessel was in distress, probably a steamer, which had run ashore in the fog. "Steamer aground on the port bow," shouted the lookout forward, half an hour later. "I see her!" exclaimed Captain Cumberland, who had placed himself in the lee mizzen-shrouds. "She is on a sand-bank." The ship was within half a mile of the steamer, but the pilot declared that it was not prudent to go any nearer. Two guns from the grounded vessel announced that she needed assistance. "Mr. Cantwell, call all hands; clear away the second cutter," said the captain. "All hands, on deck; second cutters, clear away your boat!" piped the boatswain, when the first officer had given the order. "Now, heave her to," added the captain. "Man the main clew-garnets and buntlines!" shouted Cantwell; and his orders were repeated by the other officers at their stations. "Let go the lee braces! Down with the helm, quartermaster!" "Down, sir," responded the quartermaster at the wheel. "Up mainsail! Brace her aback!" The ship rounded up into the wind, the main topsail swung round, and in a few moments the headway of the vessel was checked. "Mr. Scott, in charge of the second cutter!" continued the first lieutenant. Scott leaped lightly into the boat. "Lower away!" said Cantwell, as soon as it was prudent to drop the boat into the water. "Up oars!" shouted Clyde Blacklock, the new coxswain, proud and happy to have a real duty to perform. "Let fall! Give way together!" And away went the second cutter over the waves towards the stranded steamer. Mr. Lowington thought it best to send another boat, and the first cutter, pulling twelve oars, was despatched, in charge of Sheridan. The second cutter was far ahead of her, and was the first to reach the unfortunate vessel, which proved to be one of the mail steamers from Stockholm. She had run her bow hard on a sand-bank, and then toppled over on her starboard side, her stern nearly submerged in the deep water. "Way enough!" said Clyde, as the cutter approached her gangway. Scott stood behind the bowman, ready to step on board as soon as the boat was secured. "O Clyde! My son!" shouted a lady among the passengers. "Save us! Save us!" "That's my mother!" exclaimed the coxswain, as Scott leaped upon the deck.