flag was running up a boat's mast which we had erected on the tower, we
cheered loudly and repeatedly to assure the distant captives that aid
was nigh.

"It is Sam--God be praised," sang out Helston, who was steadily looking
out through his glass--and every one crowded around. "And is Arthur
there too, Charles?"--"Yes, I see.--Death! I thought that wave would
sweep over all. Now they wave their neckcloths--they beckon us to use
haste. High water is drawing fast on, and what man ever lived on the
Wolfstone in a spring flood. They wave again; sing away there, my lads,
cheerily!" and a tumultuous shout of human voices again mingled with the
blast.

Almost every eye was now cast out for the Dasher, and she was seen
pulling with great difficulty--for a handkerchief of canvass would have
been madness--towards the shelter of a projecting mass of rock, in Carne
Cove, in the comparatively smooth water behind which, Helston and myself
were enabled with some difficulty to get aboard. It was a moment of some
excitement. Accustomed from childhood fearlessly to brave an element
they might truly call their own, the gallant little crew steadily seated
themselves, and taking off their hats manfully answered the encouraging
cheers from aloft. The men now shipped their oars, and all having been
made snug, I seated myself in the stern-sheets, near Helston, who had
taken the helm. There was something fine in his weather-beaten
countenance, and grey hair streaming in the breeze, as he steadily
scanned the dark masses of the distant Wolf-stone--he was a true seaman.

The Dasher was a boat that would live in almost any weather on this
coast, head to wind; but when she was put about, there was no little
danger of her being pooped in a heavy following sea. Ours was now the