erfully for their lives. In a few minutes
the glaring eyes of Zulu appeared, and the young man of the ulster made
a dash, caught him by the hair, and held on. It seemed as if the angry
sea would drag both men back into its maw, but the men on the beach held
on to the rope, and they were dragged safely to land.

A cheer on right and left told that others were being rescued. Then it
became known who the wrecked ones were.

"It's the _Evening Star_!" exclaimed one.

"Poor David!" said another.

Then the cry was raised, "Have 'ee got little Billy?"

"Ay, here he comes!" shouted a strange voice.

It was that of the youth of the ulster, who now stood waist-deep eagerly
stretching out his hands, towards an object with which the wild waves
seemed to sport lovingly. It was indeed little Billy, his eyes closed,
his face white, and his curly yellow hair tossing in the foam, but he
made no effort to save himself; evidently the force of the sea and
perhaps the cold had been too much for his slight frame to bear.

Twice did the young man make a grasp and miss him. To go deeper in
would have perhaps insured his own destruction. The third time he
succeeded in catching the boy's hair; the men on shore hauled them in,
and soon little Billy lay on the beach surrounded by anxious fishermen.

"Come, mates," said one, in a deep voice, "let's carry him to his
mother."

"Not so," said the young man who had rescued Billy, and who had only
lain still for a moment where he had fallen to recover breath. "Let him
lie. Undo his necktie, one of you."

While he spoke he was busy making a tight roll of his own coat which he
immediately placed under the shoulders of Billy, and proceeded at once
to attempt to restore breathing by one of the methods of resuscitating
the drowned.

The fishermen assisted him, some hopefully, some doubtfully, a few with
looks of disbelief in the process. The youth persevered, however, with
unflagging patience, well knowing that half-drowned people have been
restored after nearly an hour of labour.

"Who is he?" inquired one fisherman of another, referring to the
stranger.

"Don't you know him, mate?" asked the other in surprise.

"No, I've just come ashore, you know."

"That's Mr Dalton, the young banker, as takes such a lift o' the
temp'rance coffee-taverns an' Blue-Ribbon movement."

"He's comin'-to, sir!" exclaimed a voice eagerly.

This had reference to little Billy, whose eyelids had been s