and the waves subsided, the clouds gradually dispersed, and the sun
shone forth with glorious and invigorating light and warmth.

All eyes were turned to the offing, but still no assistance appeared.
Captain Colville then resolved to hoist the white flag on the stump of
the mizen mast, in hopes that it might be seen from the shore, and
that he might preserve the lives of his crew by surrendering to the
enemy.

This step was necessary, as it was the only means of rescue that
remained to them. The barge had been swamped along side, soon after
the masts were cut away, and three of the crew had been drowned. The
launch, also, which was lying to leeward, had parted from her grapnel,
and had been obliged to bear up for the Texel.

At 11 o'clock A.M., Captain Colville asked the carpenter if he thought
they could remain another night upon the wreck: the carpenter assured
him that he considered it almost impossible to do so, and that the
attempt would be attended with the greatest risk to all on board. The
ship had already parted amidships, the main beam and several others
being broken.

Five rafts had been carefully instructed, each fitted with a mast and
sail; and at the earnest entreaty of the crew, Captain Colville, on
hearing the carpenter's report, allowed a part of the men to leave the
wreck on these rafts.

About noon, as the fifth and last raft was about to leave the ship,
seven boats (one bearing a flag of truce) were seen coming towards
them from the shore. The captain ordered the people to throw the