"Ay," said the coxswain, "a lamp 'll burn some time longer than a man's life. Here, master, I'll go again, if you can get a crew." "Volunteers!" shouted Van Heldre, but there was only a confused babble of voices, as women clung to their men and held back those who would have yielded. "Are you men!" roared Leslie excitedly; and Madelaine felt her arm grasped tightly. "I say, are you men, to stand there and see those poor fellows perish before your eyes!" "It's throwing lives away," cried a shrill woman's voice. "Ay, go yoursen," shouted a man angrily. "I'm going," roared Leslie. "Only a landsman. Now then, is there never a sailor who will come?" There was a panting, spasmodic cry at Madelaine's ear, one which she echoed, as Harry Vine stepped up to Leslie's side. "Here's another landsman," he cried excitedly. "Now, Pradelle, come on!" There was no response from his companion, who drew back. "No, no," panted Madelaine. "Louie--help me--they must not go." Her words were drowned in a tremendous cheer, for Van Heldre, without a word, had stepped into the life-boat, followed by the two young men. Example is said to be better than precept. It was so here, for, with a rush, twenty of the sturdy Hakemouth fishers made for the boat, and the crew was not only made up, but a dozen men begged Van Heldre and the two young men to come out and let others take their places. "_No_," said Leslie through his set teeth; "not if I never see shore again, Henry Vine." "Is that brag to Hector over me, or British pluck?" said Harry. "Don't know, my lad. Are you going ashore?" "Let's wait and see," muttered Harry, as he tied on the life-preserver handed to him. "Harry, my boy!" The young man looked up and saw his father on the harbour wall. "Hallo! Father!" he said sadly. "You are too young and weak. Let some strong man go." "I can pull an oar as well as most of them, father," he shouted; and then to himself: "And if I don't get back--well--I suppose I'm not much good." "Let him go," said Uncle Luke, as he held back his brother. "Hang the boy, he has stuff in him after all." A busy scene of confusion for a few minutes, and then once more a cheer arose, as the life-boat, well manned, parted the waters of the harbour, and the lanthorns forward and astern shone with a dull glare as that first great wave was reached, up which the boat glided, and then plunged down and disappeared. One long hour of intense agony, but not for those in the boat. The energy called forth, the tremendous struggle, the excitement to which every spirit was wrought, kept off agony or fear. It was like being in the supreme moments of a battle-charge, when in the wild whirl there is no room for dread, and a man's spirit carries him through to the end. The agony was on shore, where women clung together no longer weeping, but straining their eyes seaward for the dancing lights which dimly crept up each billow, and then disappeared, as if never to appear again.