even in a lifeboat, meant when a bar had to be crossed, we were all tumbled and bundled, more or less unceremoniously, into the great, roomy boat, and were immediately taken in hand by the busy little tug.  For half a mile or more we made good progress in her wake, being in a position to set at naught the threatening water-mountains which came tumbling in furious haste from seaward.  It was not until we seemed close to the shore and all our troubles over that the tug was obliged to cast us off, owing to the rapidly shoaling water, and we prepared to make the best of our own way in.  Bad was that best, indeed, though the peril came and went so quickly that it is but a confused impression I retain of what seemed to me a really terrible moment.  One instant I hear felicitations exchanged between our captain—­who sits protectingly close to me and poor, fainting little G——­, who lies like death in my arms—­and the captain of the lifeboat.  The next moment, in spite of sudden panic and presence of danger, I could laugh to hear the latter sing out in sharpest tones of terror and dismay, “Ah, you would, would you?” coupled with rapid orders to the stout rowers and shouts to us of “Look out!” and I do look out, to see on one side sand which the retreating wave has sucked dry, and in which the boat-seems trying to bury herself as though she were a mole:  on the other hand there towers above us a huge green wave, white-crested and curled, which is rushing at us like a devouring monster.  I glance, as I think, for the last time, at the pale nurse, on whose lap lies the baby placidly sucking his bottle.  I see a couple of sailors lay hold of her and the child with one hand each, whilst with the other they cling desperately to the thwarts.  A stout seafaring man flings the whole weight of his ponderous pilot-coated body upon G——­ and me:  I hear a roar of water, and, lo! we are washed right up alongside of the rude landing-place, still in the boat indeed, but wet and frightened to the last degree.  Looking back on it all, I can distinctly remember that it was not the sight of the overhanging wave which cost me my deadliest pang of sickening fright, but the glimpse I caught of the shining, cruel-looking sand, sucking us in so silently and greedily.  We were all trembling so much that it seemed as impossible to stand upright on the earth as on the tossing waters, and it was with reeling, drunken-looking steps that we rolled and staggered through the heavy sand-street until we reached the shelter of an exceedingly dirty hotel.  Everything in it required courage to touch, and it was with many qualms that I deposited limp little G——­ on a filthy sofa.  However, the mistress of the house looked clean, and so did the cups and saucers she quickly produced; and by the time we had finished a capital breakfast we were all quite in good spirits again, and so sharpened up as to be able to “mock ourselves” of our past perils and present discomforts.  Outside there were strange, beautiful shrubs in flower, tame pigeons came cooing and bowing in at the door, and above all there was an enchanting freshness and balminess in the sunny air.