lity.

"It won't last long, lad," said the captain, as a larger wave than usual
lifted the shattered hull and dashed it down on the rocks, washing the
deck from stern to stem, and for a few seconds burying the whole crew
under water. "May the Almighty have mercy on us; no ship can stand this
long."

"Perhaps the tide is falling," suggested Glynn, in an encouraging voice,
"and I think I see something like a shore ahead. It will be daylight in
half-an-hour or less."

The captain shook his head. "There's little or no tide here to rise or
fall, I fear. Before half-an-hour we shall--"

He did not finish the sentence, but looking at Ailie with a gaze of
agony, he pressed her more closely to his breast.

"I think we shall be saved," whispered the child, twining her arms more
closely round her father's neck, and laying her wet cheek against his.

Just then Tim Rokens crept aft, and said that he saw a low sandy island
ahead, and a rocky point jutting out from it close to the bows of the
ship. He suggested that a rope might be got ashore when it became a
little lighter.

Phil Briant came aft to make the same suggestion, not knowing that
Rokens had preceded him. In fact, the men had been consulting as to the
possibility of accomplishing this object, but when they looked at the
fearful breakers that boiled in white foam between the ship's bow and
the rocky point, their hearts failed them, and no one was found to
volunteer for the dangerous service.

"Is any one inclined to try it?" inquired the captain. "There's niver a
wan of us but 'ud try it, cap'en, _if you gives the order_," answered
Briant.

The captain hesitated. He felt disinclined to order any man to expose
himself to such imminent danger; yet the safety of the whole crew might
depend on a rope being connected with the shore. Before he could make
up his mind, Glynn, who saw what was passing in his mind,
exclaimed--"I'll do it, captain;" and instantly quitting his position,
hurried forward as fast as circumstances would permit.

The task which Glynn had undertaken to perform turned out to be more
dangerous and difficult than at first he had anticipated. When he stood
at the lee bow, fastening a small cord round his waist, and looking at
the turmoil of water into which he was about to plunge, his heart
well-nigh failed him, and he felt a sensation of regret that he had
undertaken what seemed now an impossibility. He did not wonder that the
men had one