"Life-boat in sight, sir!"
With her red, blue, and white hull looming up in the glare of the high leading light the life-boat was fighting her way towards the scene of the disaster. She was under sail—close reefed main and mizzen. Her yellow-oilskinned crew were crouching on the thwarts, the only man visible being the coxswain as he stood erect and gripped the long tiller. In another hundred yards a bend in the channel would bring the life-boat's course dead to windward and against a surging flood-tide. It was now that No. 21 would be able to render timely aid.
"Cast off bow and stern warps," shouted Derek. "Easy ahead!"
With helm hard-a-port the motor-craft swung round, passed to windward of the life-boat, turned again, and ranged up to windward, her crew standing by, ready to pass a stout grass hawser to the life-boat.
[Illustration: THE TASK OF GETTING HIM ON BOARD WAS NOT AN EASY ONE]
The latter lost no time in accepting the proffered aid. In a trice her scanty canvas was lowered and stowed; a heavy line fell athwart the R.A.F. boat's deck, and to this the towing-warp was bent and paid out.
"All fast!" shouted the life-boat's bowman in stentorian tones. It was as well that he confirmed the information with a gesture, for in the roar of the elements his voice was inaudible.
"Easy ahead!" ordered Derek.