It lay amidships and was a heavy boat enough, but with so many hands to help they got it to the broken bulwarks.

Then Elzevir, seeing they would have it out at any price, showed them how to take advantage of the sea, and shifted the helm a little till the _Aurungzebe_ fell off to larboard, and put the gap in the bulwarks on the lee.

So in a few minutes there it lay at a rope's-end on the sheltered side, deep laden with thirty men, who were ill found with oars, and much worse found with skill to use them.

There were one or two, before they left, shouted to Elzevir and me to try to make us follow them; partly, I think, because they really liked Elzevir, and partly that they might have a sailor in the boat to direct them; but the others cast off and left us with a curse, saying that we might go and drown for obstinate Englishmen.
So we two were left alone on the brig, which kept drifting backwards slowly; but the pinnace was soon lost to sight, though we saw that they were rowing wild as soon as she passed out of the shelter of the ship, and that they had much ado to keep her head to the sea.
Then Elzevir went to the kicking-wheel, and beckoned me to help him, and between us we put the helm hard up.

I saw then that he had given up all hope of the wind shifting, and was trying to run her dead for the beach.
She was broached-to with her bows in the wind, but gradually paid off as the staysail filled, and so she headed straight for shore.