But the gallant boat, thanks to the skilful eye and hand of the coxswain, kept her head up, and presently even we got used to the situation, and were able to do the same.
Where was the wreck?
I summoned up courage to ask Ben, who, no longer having to row, was standing composedly against the bulwarks by our side.
"Not far now.

Straight ahead." We strained our eyes eagerly forward.

For a long time nothing was visible in the darkness, but presently a bright flash of light shot upward, followed almost immediately by a blaze on the surface of the water and a dull report.
"They're firing again!" said Ben; "we'll be up to them in a jiffey!" "What are we to do ?" asked Jack dismally.
"Hold on where you are," said Ben; "and if we upset stay quiet in the water till you're picked up." With which consoling piece of advice Jack and I subsided, and asked no more questions.
The sight of a column of lurid flame and smoke made us wonder for a moment whether the vessel in distress was not on fire as well as wrecked.

But I recollected that the "Wolf King" had burned tar-barrels all night long as a signal of distress, and this we rightly concluded was what was taking place on board "our" wreck.
Ben's "jiffey" seemed a good while coming to an end, and long before it did we passed once more into broken water, and the perils of the start were repeated, with the aggravation that we were now across the wind instead of being head on.

Wave after wave burst over us, and time after time, as we hung suspended on the crest of some great billow, it seemed as if we never could right ourselves.