The wind increases as the tide flows, and the brig works with great violence, now, as she rolls and careens over upon her bilge, she threatens to fall upon, and destroy the life-boat The captain of the boat hails the men on the brig to come on board the boat, and get away from the side of the vessel as fast as they can. The boatmen try to explain the danger to the Portuguese, but they cannot understand. Hail, after hail, comes from the boat, for every moment increases the peril, but the Portuguese captain still refuses to leave his vessel. Any moment may be too late; the boatmen are almost ready to try and force the Portuguese over the side, but they cannot persuade them to stir; and as they will not desert them, they also wait on; wait on while the ship rolls, and works, and groans, while the seas fly over her, and at any moment she may break up. Suddenly a loud sharp crack, like a crashing of thunder, peals through the ship. The boatmen jump on the gunwale, ready to spring for the life-boat, for she may be breaking in half; no, but one of her large timbers has snapt like a pipe-stem, and others will soon follow. The Portuguese sailors make a rush to get what things they can on deck; altogether they fill eight sea-chests with their clothes. These are quickly lowered into the life-boat. Her captain does not like having her hampered with so much baggage, but cannot refuse the poor fellows, at least, a chance of saving their kit. The surf flies over the brig, and boils up all around her. The life-boat is deluged with spray, and her lights are washed out; the vessel still lifts and thumps and rolls with the force of the sea. Time after time the snapping and rending of her breaking timbers are heard; at each heave she wrenches and cracks and groans in all directions--she is breaking up fast. Make haste, make haste! for your lives be as quick as you can! The chests are all lowered, the boy is handed into the boat, the Portuguese sailors follow, the boatmen spring after them, and the brig is abandoned. We have said that it was about one o'clock in the morning when the squalls came on again, with heavy rain and thick darkness. The steamer had remained at anchor, waiting for the tide to rise, when, with the water deeper, she would be able to get nearer the brig. But as the gale freshens there is a dangerous broken sea where she is riding, and she begins to pitch very heavily. She paddles gently ahead to ease her cable, but it is soon evident to the men on board her, that if they are to get their anchor at all they must make haste about it. They heave it up, and lay to for the life-boat. The sea increases so rapidly that the _Dreadnought_ lugger is almost swamped, and has to cut her cable without attempting to save her anchor, and to make with all speed before the gale for Ramsgate. The _Petrel_ lugger springs her mast, which is fished with great difficulty, and she, too, makes the best of her way to the harbour.