They signified that they did hear; but Peter's caution was very unnecessary, for few of them could do more than crawl, and none of them, without assistance, could have got into the boat. "I see what must be done," said Peter to us. "You two remain in the boat. There's a rope towing overboard from the main-rigging; I'll get hold of it, and haul myself on her deck, and then, as best I can, I'll drop the poor fellows into the boat!" To propose was with him to act. As the boat with the send of the sea approached the wreck, while we fended her off he seized the rope, which he found secure, and though the water, as it came pouring down to leeward, washed over him, he hauled himself up in a moment on her deck, and stood among the miserable wretches who peopled it. They crawled round him, and grasped his legs, to show their gratitude to him as their deliverer. I saw by his action that he was telling them that there was not a moment to be lost. Beckoning to us to approach, he seized one of them up in his arms as if he had been an infant, and grasping the rope with one hand, swung himself off from the side of the ship, and deposited his burden in the boat, or rather in our arms, as we stood ready to receive him. In a moment he was on the deck, and lifting up another human being, sprung as before into the boat. "How many of you are there?" he asked of one who seemed to be the strongest of the crew, and looked by his dress like an officer. Once he had evidently been a stout, broad-shouldered, muscular young man, now he was a mere skeleton like the rest. "Twelve or fourteen there were this morning, but I know not how many may since have died," was the answer, given in a hollow tone scarcely audible. "Then we'll take four at a time to the brig, and we shall have to make three trips," answered Peter. "We must not venture with more, though as to weight the boat would carry the whole of you. Now, my lad," he continued, addressing the mate, for so the man who had spoken proved to be, "just do you come with us this trip. I'll lend you a hand into the boat." "No, no!" answered the fine fellow; "take some of the others who are worse off than I am. There were a couple of women. They will be found aft under the companion-hatch." As no persuasion would make the mate alter his determination, Peter hurried aft, and diving under the hatch, returned with what looked like a long bundle of clothes in his arms. "Gently, now," he sung out; "she has life in her, but very little of it." The clothes enveloped a female form, but so emaciated that she seemed to be of no weight whatever. Before placing her in the boat, Peter poured a few drops of liquid down her throat from a flask the captain had given him. "There's no use to bring the other poor thing; her sufferings are over," he observed, as he lifted in another man. "And now, my lads, we'll put these on board."