ed shore, by the tremendous sea which was
breaking on it, and which would have instantly dashed their frail bark
to pieces, they again put about, and made to windward. While the hardy
brothers were thus contending with their fate, a person mounted on
horseback was seen galloping wildly along the Carradale shore, his eyes
ever and anon turned towards the struggling boat with a look of despair
and mortal agony. It was M'Pherson, the hapless father of the
unfortunate youths by whom she was manned. There were others, too, of
their kindred, looking, with failing hearts, on the dreadful sight; for
all felt that the unequal contest could not continue long, and that the
boat must eventually go down.

Amongst those who were thus watching, with intense interest and
speechless agony, the struggle of the doomed bark, was Catherine, the
beloved of the elder of the brothers, who ran, in wild distraction,
along the shore, uttering the most heart-rending cries. "Oh, my Duncan!"
she exclaimed, stretching out her arms towards the pitiless sea. "Oh, my
beloved, my dearest, come to me, or allow me to come to you that I may
perish with you!" But Duncan heard her not, although it was very
possible he might see her, as the distance was not great.

There were, at this moment also, several persons on horseback, friends
of the young men, galloping along the shore, from point to point, as the
boat varied her direction, in the vain and desperate hope of being able
to render, though they knew not how, some assistance to the sufferers.
But the distracted father, urged on by the wild energy of despair,
outrode them all, as they made, on one occasion, for a rising ground
near Carradale, from whence a wider view of the sea could be commanded.
For this height M'Pherson now pushed, and gained it just in time to see
his gallant sons, with their little bark, buried in the waves. He had
not taken his station an instant on the height, when _The Catherine_
went down, and all on board perished.

The distracted father, when he had seen the last of his unfortunate
sons, covered his eyes with his hands, and for a moment gave way to the
bitter agony that racked his soul. His manly breast heaved with
emotion, and that most affecting of all sounds, the audible sorrowing of
a strong man, might have been heard at a great distance. It was,
however, of short continuance. M'Pherson prayed to his God to strengthen
him in this dread hour of trial, and to enable him to be