Nothing more could be done at the wreck now, so the sail was hoisted and the boat’s head turned towards the harbour. But their work of saving life was not yet done. As they sped along before the blast a dark object was seen tossing up and down upon the waves. They steered the boat towards it, and to their astonishment found the captain with the lifebuoy round him, still battling for life. He was hauled on board in an utterly exhausted condition. Before reaching the shore he revived, and told the men that his vessel was the _Providentia_, a Finland ship, and that he himself was a Russian Finn. The men were landed at Ramsgate in safety. A few days later, news came from Boulogne that the remainder of the crew, who had left the wreck in a boat, had been blown across the Channel and landed on the French coast. CHAPTER XI. A DOUBLE RESCUE. Clang! clash! roar! rings out the bell at the lifeboat-house, its iron voice heard even above the thunder of the surf and the whistling wind, warning the sleeping inhabitants of Deal that a vessel has gone ashore on the Goodwins. A ray of light gleams across the dark street as a door opens and a tall figure rushes out--it is that of a lifeboatman. Presently he is joined by others, and all hurry on as fast as possible, in the face of the furious wind, to reach the boathouse. Each man buckles on his lifebelt, and takes his place in the lifeboat. Those who have failed to get a place help to run it down to the white line of surf, over the well-greased boards laid down on the shingle. The coxswain stands up in the stern with the rudder lines in his hands, watching for a favourable moment to launch. The time has come, the order is given, and away dashes the lifeboat on her glorious errand. Onward she plunged under close-reefed sail in the direction of the flares, which the shipwrecked men were burning to tell the rescuers of their whereabouts. Suddenly the light went out and was seen no more. A shriek echoed over the waves, but none could say whether it was that of "some strong swimmer in his agony," or only the voice of the wind. The lifeboatmen looked around them on every side, but they could see nothing; they listened, and heard nothing; they shouted, but no answer came back. "A minute more and we would have had them," says the coxswain. "Hard lines for all to perish when help was so near." Suddenly, through the darkness, the light of another flare was seen. The boat was at once brought round and headed for the newly-discovered wreck. It was now midnight, and the sea was like a boiling cauldron, but the fine seamanship of the crew was a match for the storm. Many an anxious glance was cast in the direction of the flare, and a fervent hope was in every heart that this time they would not be too late.