Both remained silent for some time, watching with intense anxiety the
ineffectual efforts of the little vessel to beat up to windward.

In a few minutes the engineer turned to his companion and said, "They
cannot save us, Wilson. The two boats that are left--can they hold us
all?"

The landing-master shook his head. "The two boats," said he, "will be
completely filled by their own crews. For ordinary rough weather they
would be quite full enough. In a sea like that," he said, pointing to
the angry waves that were being gradually lashed into foam by the
increasing wind, "they will be overloaded."

"Come, I don't know that, Wilson; we may devise something," said Mr.
Stevenson, with a forced air of confidence, as he moved slowly
towards the place where the men were still working, busy as bees and
all unconscious of the perilous circumstances in which they were
placed.

As the engineer pondered the prospect of deliverance, his thoughts
led him rather to despair than to hope. There were thirty-two persons
in all upon the rock that day, with only two boats, which, even in
good weather, could not unitedly accommodate more than twenty-four
sitters. But to row to the floating light with so much wind and in so
heavy a sea, a complement of eight men for each boat was as much as
could with propriety be attempted, so that about half of their number
was thus unprovided for. Under these circumstances he felt that to
despatch one of the boats in expectation of either working the
Smeaton sooner up to the rock, or in hopes of getting her boat