The wind continues to increase, the gale is again at its height, and a fearful sea running. Wave after wave breaks over the steamer's decks, but she is an excellent boat, strongly built and powerful; and her captain and crew are well used to rough work. Head to wind and steaming half power, she holds her own against the wind, and keeps, as far as her crew can judge, in the neighbourhood of the wreck and of the life-boat. As time passes, and the crew of the steamer can see nothing of the boat, they get anxious. The wreck must have been abandoned long before this; has the boat been unable to get away from her? is the boat swamped or stove? and are all lost? They signalize again and again, but in vain; they can obtain no answer. They cruize up and down as near the edge of the Sands as they dare, hoping to fall in with the boat. Now they make in one direction, and now in another, as in their eagerness and apprehension the roar of the storm shapes itself into cries of distress, or as a darker shadow on the sea leads them into the hope that at last they have found the lost boat. All hands keep steadfastly on the look-out, and get greatly excited; the storm becomes truly terrible; but they forget their own peril and hardships in their great anxiety for the safety of the crew of the life-boat, and of the poor fellows who were on the wreck. Their anxiety becomes insupportable, heightened as it is by the horrors of the night. Through the thick darkness, the bright light of the Goodwin light-vessel shines out like a star. With a faint hope the crew of the steamer wrestle their way through the storm and speak the light-vessel. "Have you seen anything of the life-boat?" the captain of the steamer shouts out. "Nothing! nothing!" is the answer. It seems to confirm all their fears, and they hasten back again to their old cruising ground--they will not lessen their exertions, or lose any chance of rendering assistance to their comrades. It is still pitch-dark, and the storm rages on--the hours creep by, O how slowly! How they long for the light! All hands still on the watch! and as the first grey light of dawning comes, it is with straining eye-balls they seek to penetrate the twilight, and find some signs of their lost comrades. It is almost broad daylight before they can even find out the place where the wreck was lying. With all speed, but little hope, they make for it; and then indeed their great dread seems realized. The brig is completely broken up, literally torn to pieces. They can see great masses of timber, and tangled rigging, but no signs of life. Nearer and nearer they go and wait for the broad daylight; but still nothing is to be seen, but shattered pieces of wreck, moored fast by the matted rigging to the buried remains of the hull, and tossing and heaving in the surf.