life of which we saw so little chance of at last saving; but the tide was still falling, and if we could only live through all the wash of the sea, until it had gone down a bit, there was just one more chance for us. "Well, we stood it for about two hours, I should think, the seas breaking over us continually, when we began to feel that they were getting less heavy, and ran less and less up the deck, and over the vessel. And at last, although half dead with breathlessness and fatigue, from the exertion and the constant rush of the waves over us, we were able to drag ourselves up on to the broadside of the vessel, and then we threw ourselves down full length, to try and recover our strength a little." It was with no slight degree of interest and sympathy that the life-boat men listened to the tale of the poor fellows; three of whom were married men, and they described how the thoughts of the loved ones at home, while it added to their agony, yet nerved them time after time to fresh efforts to struggle free from the seas that overran them. One man grew very excited as they told the dismal story. His limbs and features worked, the horrors of the past night came upon him in all their force, and as the waves dashed over the life-boat, he fancied himself again being washed off the side of the wreck, and springing up he shouted, "Let me drown myself, let me drown myself, I can stand it no longer!" and tried to throw himself into the sea. Three men seized him, held him down and tried to pacify him, but still he struggled, shouting,--"I cannot stand it! I cannot stand it! let me go! let me go!" He soon became somewhat quieter, from exhaustion, but the men did not feel it safe to let go their hold upon him, until they got into the harbour. It was now about half-past four in the afternoon, and the life-boat work for the day was done, the shipwrecked crew staggered to the Sailors' Home; wondering much to find themselves still alive, after the dread perils, and terrible struggles, and exhaustion, of the previous night. CHAPTER XIX. THE HOVELLERS, OR SALVORS, SAVED. THE "PRINCESS ALICE" HOVELLING LUGGER. "When they who to the sea go down, And in the waters ply their toil, Are lifted on the surge's crown, And plunged where seething eddies boil, "Then with Thy mercies ever new, Thy servants set from peril free; And bring them, Pilot wise and true, Unto the port where they would be." _Hymn._ No sooner has the life-boat started in the morning, in answer to the signal from the Goodwin light-vessel, than the master of the _Princess Alice_ gathers a crew of twelve men, and follows as fast as possible in the wake of the life-boat.