The Coxswains Bride | Page 4

elderly man, whose quiet demeanour, dress,
and general appearance, suggested the idea of a city missionary--an
idea which was strengthened when, in obedience to the woman's
request, he promptly prayed, in measured sentences, yet with intense
earnestness, for deliverance--first from sin and then from impending
death--in the name of Jesus. His petition was very short, and it was
barely finished when a wave of unusual size struck the vessel with
tremendous violence, burst over the side and almost swept every one
into the sea. Indeed, it was evident that some of the weaker of the party

would have perished then if they had not been secured to the vessel
with ropes.
It seemed like a stern refusal of the prayer, and was regarded as such by
some of the despairing ones, when a sudden cheer was heard and a light
resembling a great star was seen to burst from the darkness to
windward.
"The lifeboat!" shouted the captain, and they cheered with as much
hearty joy as if they were already safe.
A few minutes more and the familiar blue and white boat of mercy
leaped out of darkness into the midst of the foaming waters like a living
creature.
It was the boat from the neighbouring port of Brentley. Either the
storm-drift had not been so thick in that direction as in the
neighbourhood of Greyton, or the Brentley men had kept a better
look-out. She had run down to the wreck under sail. On reaching it--a
short distant to windward--the sail was lowered, the anchor dropped,
the cable payed out, and the boat eased down until it was under the lee
of the wreck. But the first joy at her appearance quickly died out of the
hearts of some, who were ignorant of the powers of lifeboats and
lifeboat men, when the little craft was seen at one moment tossed on
the leaping foam till on a level with the ship's bulwarks, at the next
moment far down in the swirling waters under the mizzen chains; now
sheering off as if about to forsake them altogether; anon rushing at their
sides with a violence that threatened swift destruction to the boat; never
for one instant still; always tugging and plunging like a mad thing.
"How can we ever get into that?" was the thought that naturally sprang
into the minds of some, with chilling power.
Those, however, who understood the situation better, had more
legitimate ground for anxiety, for they knew that the lifeboat, if loaded
to its utmost capacity, could not carry more than half the souls that had
to be saved. On becoming aware of this the men soon began to reveal
their true characters. The unselfish and gentle made way for the women
and children. The coarse and brutal, casting shame and every manly

feeling aside, struggled to the front with oaths and curses, some of them
even using that false familiar motto, "Every man for himself, and God
for us all!"
But these received a check at the gangway, for there stood the captain,
revolver in hand. He spoke but one word--"back," and the cravens
slunk away. The mild man who had offered prayer sat on the ship's
bulwarks calmly looking on. He understood the limited capacity of the
boat, and had made up his mind to die.
"Now, madam, make haste," cried the mate, pushing his way towards
the widow.
"Come, father," she said, holding out her hand; but the old man did not
move.
"There are more women and little ones," he said, "than the boat can
hold. Good-bye, darling. We shall meet again--up yonder. Go."
"Never!" exclaimed the widow, springing to his side. "I will die with
you, father! But here, boatman, save, oh, save my child!"
No one attended to her. At such terrible moments men cannot afford to
wait on indecision. Other women were ready and only too glad to go.
With a sense almost of relief at the thought that separation was now
impossible, the widow strained the child to her bosom and clung to her
old father.
At that moment the report of a pistol was heard, and a man fell dead
upon the deck. At the last moment he had resolved to risk all and
rushed to the side, intending to jump into the boat.
"Shove off," was shouted. The boat shot from the vessel's side. The
bowman hauled on the cable. In a few seconds the oars were shipped,
the anchor was got in, and the overloaded but insubmergible craft
disappeared into the darkness out of which it had come.
The wretched people thus left on the wreck knew well that the boat

could not make her port, land the rescued party, and return for them
under some hours. They also knew that the waves were increasing in