The short January day was now drawing rapidly to a close, and still the wreck was not in sight. What was to be done? The question was a serious one, and so the men began to talk the matter over. It was bitterly cold, and if they remained where they were their sufferings would be great; but then they would be on the spot to help their fellow-creatures as soon as another day gave them sufficient light to see where they were. "We had better stop here and wait for daylight," said one. "I’m for stopping," said another. "We’re here to fetch the wreck, and fetch it we will, if we wait a week," shouted a third. Without a murmur of dissent or a moment’s hesitation, the brave fellows prepared to pass the night in the open boat. But first they had to communicate with the tug. They hailed her, and when she came alongside they informed the captain of their intention. "All right," he shouted back, and then the steamer took up her position in front, keeping her paddles slowly revolving, so that she should not drift. Throughout the night these gallant lifeboatmen lay huddled together for warmth in the bottom of the boat. In such weather it required vigorous exercise to keep the blood circulating, and before morning dawned several of the men were groaning with the cold, and pressing themselves against the thwarts to relieve the pain. But even these hardships were borne without complaint, as they thought of the sufferings of the shipwrecked crew, and jokes were not wanting to help to pass the time. "Charlie Fish," said one of the boatmen, speaking to the coxswain, "what would some of them young gen’l’men as comes to Ramsgate in the summer, and says they’d like to go out in the lifeboat, think of this?" A general roar of laughter was the answer. At length the cold grey light of early dawn proclaimed the advent of a new day. Keen eyes gazed anxiously towards the sands for a sight of the wreck. At first nothing was visible but tall columns of whirling spray, then after a time a mast was seen sticking up out of the water about three miles off. The scene was enough to make the stoutest heart quail, and the lifeboatmen held their breath as they looked at the water rushing in tall columns of foam more than half-way up the mast. The roar of the sea could be heard even above the whistling of the wind.