Mildred stood upon the shore, where most of the people of Old Maxham had already gathered, and Mr. Willoughby stood by her side.
For herself life had gained, within the last twelve hours, new hope and new happiness; but how could she think of herself, while those poor sailors were drifting to death, while those other gallant fellows were out on the stormy waters, risking their own lives that they might save men in direst need?
The very consciousness of impending happiness for herself was almost repellent at such a time. Even with John Willoughby by her side, she seemed to herself to be on that drifting vessel, awaiting rescue or death; so intense was her sympathy with the men who were there.
For she had gone through the same. She too had stood upon a heaving deck; she too had seen the line of wild white breakers drawing nearer and nearer. She too had watched a boat struggling through the rough water, vainly trying to get near in time. She too knew what it was to look drowning in the face, with small hope of being saved.
All this was vividly present to her imagination, and she felt as she knew that the men must feel on yonder dismasted vessel. Only this time the struggle might not be in vain; for the gallant lifeboat rose splendidly again and again from breaking waves and sheets of spray, and still the rescuers pressed onward.
Nearer and nearer the helpless vessel drew to the rocks; nearer and nearer the lifeboat drew to the vessel. It was fearful work to stand on the beach, helpless except that all might pray,—to stand in safety, hoping and fearing what each moment might bring.
By this time all the village was down on the shore, watching their lifeboat, bought partly with the fruits of their own little self-denials. Everybody realized that, had the boat not been procured, they could only have stood to look upon a terrible tragedy, powerless to give any help. Not even the sanguine young Vicar would have proposed taking out a common boat into such a sea as they looked upon this morning. The thing would have been simply an impossibility.
At length it was seen that the lifeboat was winning—would win—had won, the race. Before the vessel was yet on the rocks, the lifeboat drew near; and then, one by one, slowly and with difficulty, the crew of the vessel were taken off.
Some who had glasses could watch the perilous work being done; and cheer after cheer broke from those on shore, as one sailor after another was reported to be safe on board the lifeboat. This work accomplished, the dismantled vessel was left to drift to its fate; and the laden lifeboat turned to struggle landwards, again and again to vanish momentarily under rush after rush of breaking waves, yet again and again to rise, like a bird shaking itself free, gallantly riding the watery hills.
"It's a wonderful thing to see! Thank God that we have that boat!" murmured the Vicar.