Already six guns had been thrown overboard; in a few days, the gale increasing, nearly all the remainder followed. The anchors were cut away, and also some spars which were superfluous in such a gale; the sails were split by the violence of the wind, the rigging gave out, the masts swaying and threatening to go by the board, and never a sail appeared: not even a foe of superior force, which they would have welcomed in their dire extremity. At length the word was beginning to be passed about that it was useless any longer to toil at the pumps. Nothing could save the ship, and the lassitude of despair was settling down upon them. The officers began to share the despondency of the crew, and Walker, looking round for those with whom he would consult, missed them: they had gone below to take eternal leave of one another. Calling a seaman, Walker sent him aloft, with orders to cry "A sail!" and then, sending for the drummer, he bade him beat to quarters. Sudden animation ran through the ship. The men paused in their labour, looking round the horizon; the officers ran on deck, and closed round the captain: "Sir, do you think of engaging?" asked one. "Yes, sir," replied Walker, in a low voice. "When I see an enemy so near--your own fears, which attack the hearts of all my other men. I am willing to take my greater part of duty, but you leave too much to my share." Ashamed, they endeavoured to emulate his fortitude, and this desperate ruse procured another respite from despair, and a night of renewed vigour at the pumps, in the hope of rescue in the morning. But there was no sail, and, though the wind had abated, despair returned; Walker assured them positively that they would sight land next day, and thus induced them to turn to once more, though he was by no means confident that his word would come true: and when a man ran aft in a sudden panic, or sent by others to tell the news, crying that the ship was just about to sink, his patience gave way for a moment, and he floored the scaremonger with a blow of his fist. "You lie, you villain!" he said; "she told me otherwise, as she rose on that last sea!" But it was over at last. On the following day the coast of Cornwall was sighted, and in the afternoon the battered and water-logged _Boscawen_ ran into St. Ives. Anchorless, she drifted helplessly, and, in spite of the efforts of the Cornish boatmen, swept past the pier and grounded on a rocky beach, where she instantly parted, her masts falling every way. All the crew save four were got on shore in safety: Walker remained to see the sick got out of the cabin window, telling his men not to mind about him, as he would presently swim on shore; but two of the townsmen, who had probably heard from some of the seamen what sort of hero was in danger of perishing on the wreck, came out and brought him off.