the cry. "The next sea must swamp her;"
but the wind came faster than the wave--the sail bulged out, and on she
flew.

For another moment she seemed to hang in the midst of a breaker as it
rushed backwards from the shore, but another lifted her, and, carried
forward on its crest, she came like a thing of life escaping from her
savage pursuers towards the beach.

A dozen stout hands, incited by the address of Mr Tremayne, rushed
forward to grasp the boat, regardless now of their own safety, for the
work was one of no little danger; ere they could seize the boat's
gunwale she might be dashed against them, or be swept out by the
receding wave as it went hissing backwards in a sheet of foam. But they
were well accustomed to the duty they had undertaken.

Michael to the last kept his seat, steering his boat stem on to the
beach. As he felt the keel touch the sand he sprang forward and was
grasped by the sturdy arms of one of those who had gone to his rescue,
and carried in triumph out of the reach of the foaming breaker, which
came roaring up as if fierce at the escape of its prey.

With difficulty those who had gone down to seize the boat made their way
after their companion, and she, before they could haul her up, was
thrown on the beach and rolled over and over with her sides crushed in.

"Oh, the boat, the boat! what will poor father and those at home do?"
exclaimed Michael, as he saw what had happened. "I thought to have
saved her."

"Never mind the boat," answered a stout lad, one of those who had gone
down to his rescue, wringing him by the hand. "We are right glad to
have you safe. I only got here just in time to see you standing for the
shore. I did not think you would reach it. I have been hunting for you
all along the coast, and made sure that you were lost."

"Thank you, Eban," answered Michael, for it was Eban Cowan who spoke to
him. "But poor father will grieve when he hears the boat is lost after
all."

"Thy father won't grieve for that or anything else, Michael," said Eban,
thoughtlessly; "he is dead."

"Dead!" exclaimed poor Michael, grasping the arm of the man who had
brought him on shore, and who was still standing by him, and overcome by
the strain on his nerves, which he had hitherto so manfully endured, and
the sad news so abruptly given him, he would have fallen to the ground
had not the fisherman supported him.

Mr Tremayne and his wife and daughter now came up.

"Poor boy, it i