The wretched man knew not how to face the Judge of quick and dead before whom he might so shortly be summoned to appear. A few of the passengers were God-fearing people, and they even at such an hour, were calm. Duff was one of these for whom death had lost its worst terrors, he knew that God ruled the storm, and that the way to Heaven was as short from a foaming sea as from the most peaceful deathbed. The missionary's clear voice was heard over the dashing of the waters and the roar of the wind. Duff called out that as all might suddenly be summoned together to give their final account, they had better join in prayer as best they could for deliverance, if such were God's holy will, or if not, for preparedness to meet Him. All passengers clustered around the missionary, holding on so as not to be swept off the deck by the waves, whilst the man of God poured forth his soul in earnest supplications. Oh! What a never to be forgotten prayer meeting was that in darkness and danger, on the billow-swept deck of the wreck! Meanwhile the captain and crew were doing all that they could to launch the longboat which might afford a means of escape from a sinking vessel. The task was one of extreme difficulty; the sea was a mass of foam gleaming white through the darkness now dimly lighted up by the moon. At last, the work was accomplished,—the longboat was heaving up and down on the waters near enough to the ship for the terrified people on the deck to get in. But it could not hold more than one third of those on board the doomed vessel. No doubt the quiet prayer had calmed the spirits of those who had joined in it, for now a very striking display of unselfish Christian love was shown. Unmarried men said to those who were married, "You go with your wives, you are two, we are only one." The wives had declared that they would not go without their husbands. But none of those on deck were to be lost. Through God's mercy the wind abated; the little island of Dossen, like a place of refuge, was near. The longboat with another smaller boat were able to make three trips, and so at last each one of the shivering, dripping passengers and crew was landed safe on the desolate isle. Soon after the last trip had been made, the longed-for daylight appeared. Before dawn there was no means of knowing whether the place was inhabited. Dreary enough was the scene revealed by the opening day. The island was merely a haunt of sea-birds, and the only persons to be found on it were two men employed to collect their eggs. But the sight of these two Dutchmen was welcome to the poor desolate shipwrecked sufferers who had lost their all, especially as the strangers possessed a cooking-pot, under such circumstances a valuable acquisition indeed. The poor passengers and sailors dispersed, some to collect eggs, some to collect grass and seaweed with which to feed a fire; others remained beside the pot constantly employed in boiling sea-birds' eggs, as that was their only food.