as if loth to leave altogether
the waters over which it loved to brood.

When, however, the rays of the bright morning sun sent this nightmare of
a mist to the right-about, a small French fishing lugger might have been
seen working out towards the offing from Saint Malo, giving the
"Casquettes" a pretty wide berth you may be sure; those who have to do
with seafaring matters across Channel knowing full well of the dangerous
race that runs by the fatal rocks, ever seeking in its malice to engulph
passing crafts and bear them away to destruction!

Two men were in the lugger; one, as usual, attending to the helm, the
other minding the sheets and sitting midway between the bows and stern
of the vessel, so as to be handy when required and thus save unnecessary
locomotion.

Sailors, it may here be mentioned in confidence, especially those
hailing from la belle France, never give themselves more trouble than
they can help; which philosophic way of going through life might be
studied to advantage, perhaps, by some shore folk!

These mariners, consequently, were taking it very easy, the one forward
sitting on the break of the "fo'c's'le" and smoking a pipe, there not
being much to do in the rope-hauling or letting go, as the lugger was
only creeping lazily along through the almost still water with the aid
of the light breeze then blowing.

Presently, this latter gentleman, casting a casual eye around, spied the
poor mastless, derelict-looking little yacht, rolling about in the heavy
tide-race that was taking her on to the rocks.

Instantly, sailor-like, he became all animation; taking his pipe out of
his mouth and shouting out to his fellow-voyager astern with much
gesticulation.

"Tiens, Jacques!" he cried, "voila un bateau qui courre sur les
brisants!"

"Quoi?" carelessly asked the other. "Vous moquez vous!"

But the one who had first spoken repeated what he'd said, to the effect
that there was "a boat drifting on the rocks, and likely to be wrecked."
"Jacques," however, as his comrade had called him, did not seem much
interested in the matter, merely shrugging his shoulders, implying that
it was "none of his concern."

"C'est bien," said he. "Pas mon affaire."

The other, though, seemed more taken with the little craft, climbing up
a couple of steps into the rigging in order to have a better look at
her.

He had not gazed a moment when his excitement became intensified.

"Mon Dieu, Jacques!" he sang out. "I