The mainmast was gone, her foresail, and foretopsail were blown adrift, and great columns of foam were mounting up, flying over her foremast and bow. They saw a Margate lugger lying at anchor just clear of the Sands, and made close to her. As they shot by they could just make out, mid the roar of the storm, a loud hail, eight of our men on board! and on they flew, and in a few minutes were in a sea that would instantly have swamped the lugger, noble and powerful boat though she was. Approaching the wreck, it was with terrible anxiety they strained their sight, trying to discover if there were still any men left in the tangled mass of rigging, over which the sea was breaking so furiously. By degrees they made them out. "I see a man's head, look! one is waving his arm."--"I make out two! three! why the rigging is full of the poor fellows;" and with a cheer of triumph, at being yet in time, the life-boat crew settled to their work. The wreck of the mainmast, and the tremendous wash of sea over the vessel, prevented their going to the lee of the wreck. This increased their danger tenfold, as the result proved. When about forty yards from the wreck, they lowered their sails, and cast the anchor over the side. The moment for which the boat had so gallantly battled for four hours, and the shipwrecked had waited almost in despair for eight hours, had at last arrived. No cheering! no shouting in the boat now, no whisper beyond the necessary orders; the risk and suspense are too terrible! yard by yard, the cable is cautiously payed out, and the great rolling seas are allowed to carry the boat, little by little, nearer to the vessel. The waves break over the boat, for a moment bury it, and then as the sea rushes on, and breaks upon the wreck, the spray, flying up, hides the men lashed to the rigging from the boatman's sight. They hoist up a corner of the sail to let the boat sheer in; all are ready; a huge wave lifts them. Pay out the cable! sharp, men! sharp! the coxswain shouts; belay all! The cable was let go a few yards by the run, and the boat is alongside the wreck. With a cry, three men jump into the boat and are saved! All hands to the cable! haul in hand over hand, for your lives, men, quick, the coxswain cries; for he sees a tremendous wave rushing in swiftly upon them. They haul in the cable, draw the boat a little from the wreck, the wave passes and breaks over the vessel; if the life-boat had been alongside she would have been dashed against the wreck, and perhaps capsized, or washed over, and utterly destroyed. Again the men watch the waves, and as they see a few smaller ones approaching, let the cable run again, and get alongside; this time they are able to remain a little longer by the vessel; and one after another, thirteen of the shipwrecked men unlash themselves from the rigging and jump into the boat, when again they draw away from the vessel in all haste, and avoid threatened destruction.