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