The lights they now look for are the beacon fires of warfare; calls to conflict and peril; guides into the thickest of the dread battle-field. As the life-boat lifts on the curl of a wave, the crew see the flickering flame of the signal-fire that is burning so fiercely in the tar-barrel on the wreck; they make in for the signal at once, pass through the Cud channel; snow-squalls come sweeping by, adding to the cold and darkness, and shutting out from their view all lights on the Sands; the men are eager and excited in their quick sympathy for the shipwrecked crew—eager to brave all the dangers of the lashing seas which they know must be leaping and tearing about the wreck. And they well realize the deadly peril the poor shipwrecked seamen must be in, and think little in their struggle onward of all the hardships they themselves are enduring.
For about forty minutes they battle their way, and then find themselves near the wreck; the signal flame from the burning tar-barrel leaps, and flickers, and burns low, and is almost extinguished by the spray; the life-boatmen watch it anxiously, for they know that if the crew of the vessel cannot succeed in keeping it alight, it will be almost impossible for them to find the vessel in the darkness of the night; the crew of the schooner also feel this to be the case, and bring clothes and bedding, and all the tar and oil they can get at, and by great exertions manage to keep the fire burning.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] Note.—Extract from Newspaper.—"Five vessels wrecked off Margate:—On Friday evening there were about one hundred and fifty vessels anchored in the Margate and North Foreland Roads, where they were sheltered from a south-westerly gale. Suddenly, about one o'clock on Saturday morning, a violent gale sprung from the north-east, and the vessels in the Roads were compelled to slip their anchors and seek the nearest shelter. Rockets and flares were seen displayed in all directions from the numerous distressed vessels. The Broadstairs life-boat and the Margate life-boat, the Quiver, put to sea. Four vessels were driven ashore, three in the Main, and one in Margate Bay, and the crews of three were saved by the Broadstairs life-boat. Another vessel was run down off the North Foreland, and it is reported that another has gone to pieces on the Tongue Sand, and, it is feared, with all hands."
CHAPTER XIV. THE WRECK OF THE "MARY"—A STRUGGLE FOR DEAR LIFE.
"Sleep on; thy corse is far away,
But love bewails thee yet;
For thee the heart wrung sigh is breathed,