"Yes," I replied, "but I shall want help to get to her. There! I've fastened the rope to a rock, let Bill Tregargus come up." Instantly, by the tugging of the rope, I knew that some one was coming, and a little later the giant form of Bill Tregargus was beside me. We made our way to the wreck, and as we drew nearer I was sure I saw people clinging to the half broken mast. Nearer and nearer we came, and then, to our joy, we saw that two men had got from the vessel and were now trying to scale the rock. "There's hope yet, Bill," I said. "Have you brought the rope with you?" "Part on't, Maaster Roger, and part I tied to the rock." I shouted as loud as I could, but I was unable to make them hear. The thunder of the storm made my little shout of no avail. I called to the people on the vessel, but there was no response. Meanwhile the waves swept over the doomed vessel, and roared along the cruel rocks. There seemed but little chance of our rendering help. Even we, sheltered as we were by the great prongs of the rock, found it difficult to stand. I took the rope from Bill, and, holding one end in my hand, I threw it straight to the men, who I could see were struggling below. The effort succeeded. It was immediately caught, and soon we got a man on the top of the rock. "Many on board?" I asked. "Twelve," he gasped. "Can you make the other one tell the crew to do as you have done?" We looked again, seeking for the best method to signal, and to our delight saw that those on the vessel realised that help was come. In the dim light I could see that they were leaving the vessel. It was only a question of time. One by one, we pulled them up, some bruised and beaten, but still hopeful, others gasping for life, and others again dazed and faint. We asked no questions; it was our work to save them first and question them afterwards; and so, one after another, man by man, they reached the summit of the rock. At length we came to the last man. He was getting old and stiff. Even in the night I could see that he was bent and weak. "Are you all here?" I asked, when he had reached the top. The old man who had last come up looked around him, and then cried out: "But where is Miss Ruth?" "Miss Ruth?" gasped two or three; "is she not here?" "No woman has come up," I replied. "Then Miss Ruth is still on the vessel," cried the old man. "Wretch, wretch, that I am to leave her." "But she left the vessel," replied another; "why, Tom Poltewan said he was going to help her down." "She said she must get something from the cabin," said another, "and I didn't see her. I thought Mr. Inch would be sure to take care of her." Then followed a confusion of tongues, and in the storm I did not distinguish what was said. Evidently in the great anxiety to escape death a woman had been overlooked. But she must be rescued. The work which had been begun must be completed. Surely God who had helped us thus far would not desert us now?