The Broadstairs men had heard the signal, and the wind and tide being in their favour, they soon ran down to the neighbourhood of the wreck. On making to the vessel, the Ramsgate men find her to be a fine-looking brig, almost high and dry upon the Sands. Her masts and rigging are all right; the moon, which has broken through the clouds, shines upon her clean new copper; and, so far, she seems to have received but little damage. A grand thing for all hands, for owners, underwriters, crew and boatmen, the men think, if they can only get her safely off when the tide rises, and bring her into harbour; a fine vessel and perhaps valuable cargo saved, and a pretty bit of salvage, which will be well earned and nobody should grudge, for the boatmen have to live, as well as to save life. Efforts have already been made for the vessel's relief. The _Dreadnought_ lugger had brought with her a small twenty-five feet life-boat. The _Little Dreadnought_, and this boat with five hands, had succeeded in getting alongside the brig. The steamer slips the hawser of the Ramsgate boat, and anchors almost abreast of the vessel, with sixty fathom of chain out. There is a heavy rolling sea, but much less than there has been, as the tide has fallen considerably. The life-boat makes in for the brig, carries on through the surf and breakers, and when within forty fathoms of the vessel, lowers the sail, throws the anchor overboard, and veers alongside. The captain and some of the men remain in the boat, to fend her off from the sides of the vessel, for although it is shallow water, the tide is running over the Sands like a sluice, and it requires great care to prevent the boat getting her side stove in. The rest of her crew climb on board the brig. Her captain had, until then, hoped to get his vessel off, as the tide rose, without assistance, and had refused the aid of the Broadstairs men; but now he realizes the danger that his vessel is in, and very gladly accepts the assistance that is offered. One of his crew speaks a little English, and through him the captain employs the crew of the life-boat and the Broadstairs men, to get his ship off the Sands. CHAPTER IX. THE WRECK ABANDONED, AND THE LIFE-BOAT DESPAIRED OF. "Alone upon the leaping billows, lo! What fearful image works its way? A ship! Shapeless and wild ... Her sails dishevell'd, and her massy form Disfigured, yet tremendously sublime: Prowless and helmless through the waves she rocks, And writhes, as if in agony! Like her, Who to the last, amid o'erwhelming foes, Sinks with a bloody struggle into death,-- The vessel combats with the battling waves, Then fiercely dives below! the thunders roll Her requiem, and whirlwinds howl for joy!" _Crabbe._ The boatmen, as soon as they get on board the brig, find that she is in a very perilous position, but have hopes of getting her off.