nd
sound, but drenching wet with the water they had passed through to
save their lives. The schooner was still on the Carick, much injured
already, plunging with every hurling sea on to the sharp teeth of the
shoal beneath her, and going to pieces fast. And now that help seemed
to be no more needed the people came flocking down in crowds--the
Fairbrothers, with Greeba, and all their men and maids, Kane Wade the
Methodist, with Chalse A'Killey, who had been sleeping the night at
his house, Nary Crowe, and Matt Mylechreest and old Coobragh. And
while Davy Kerruish shook the salt water from his sou'wester, and
growled out to them with an oath that they had been a plaguy long
time coming, and the skipper bemoaned the loss of his ship, and the
men of their kits, Chalse was down on his knees on the beach, lifting
up his crazy, cracked voice in loud thanksgiving. At that the
growling ended, and then Asher Fairbrother, who had been the last to
come, invited the ship-broken men to Lague, and all together they
turned to follow him.

Just at that moment a cry was heard above the tumult of the sea. It
was a wild shriek that seemed to echo in the lowering dome of the
sky. Greeba was the first to hear it.

"There was some one left on the ship!" she cried.

The men stopped and looked into each other's faces one by one.

"No," said the skipper, "we're all here."

The cry was heard once more; it was a voice of fearful agony.

"That's from Port-y-Vullin," said Asher Fairbrother: and to
Port-y-Vullin they all hastened off, following the way of the beach.
There it was easy to see from whence the cries had come. An open
fishing boat was laboring in the heavy sea, her stern half prancing
like an unbroken horse, and her forepart jammed between two horns of
the rock that forks out into the sea from Maughold Head. She had
clearly been making for the little bay, when she had fallen foul of
the shoal that lies to the north of it. Dark as the night was, the
sea and sky were lighter than the black headland, and the figure of a
man in the boat could be seen very plainly. He was trying to unship
the mast, that he might lighten the little craft and ease her off the
horns that held her like a vice, but every fresh wave drove her head
deeper into the cleft, and at each vain effort he shouted again and
again in rage and fear.

A boat was lying high and dry on the shore. Two of the Fairbrothers,
Stean and Thurstan, ran it into the water, jumped i