at rocky bottom, in such a sea.

On reaching the village, they joined a group of fishermen who were
standing under the shelter of the end of a cottage.

"Can nothing be done, Considine?" Mr. Davenant shouted, in the ear of one
of the fishermen.

"Not a thing, yer honour. She has just let drop one of her anchors."

"But they could not hope it would hold there," Mr. Davenant said.

"Not they, your honour, onless they were mad. They hoped it would hoult
so as to bring her head round; but the cable went, as soon as the strain
came. I saw her head go sharp up to the wind, and then fall off again;
not that it would have made much difference in the end, though it would
have given them half an hour longer of life."

"Could we get a boat off with a line, if she strikes?"

"Look at the sea, yer honour. Mr. Walter has been asking us; but there's
no boat could get through that surf, not if all Ireland dipinded on it."

"Where is Walter?"

"Sure and I can't tell ye, yer honour. He was here a few minutes since;
but what's come of him is more nor I can tell ye."

"He went off with Larry Doolan," a boy, who was standing next to the
fisherman, shouted.

"Then, as sure as fate, they are up to some mischief," Mr. Davenant said.
"Walter is bad enough by himself, but with Larry to help him, it would
take a regiment to look after them."

"They can't be in much mischief tonight, yer honour," the fisherman said.

"Look, sir, she's coming in fast. She draws a power of water, and she
will strike in a minute or two."

"She seems crowded with men. Can nothing be done to help them?" the
priest asked.

"Nothing, your reverence. Praying for them is the only thing that can
help the poor sowls now."

"You are sure it's not possible to launch a boat, Considine?"

"Look for yourself, yer honour. There's not a boat on the coast that
could get through them breakers."

"There she goes."

Even above the noise of the storm, a loud cry was heard, and the crash of
breaking timber as, with the shock, the main and mizzen masts, weakened
by the loss of the foremast, went over the sides. The next great wave
drove the vessel forward two or three fathoms.

"That's her last move," Considine said. "The rocks will be through her
bottom, now."

"They are off," a boy shouted, running up.

"Who are off?" Considine asked.

"The young squire and Larry Doolan."

"Off where?" Mr. Davenant exclaimed.

"Off in the curragh, yer honour. Me and Tim C