ted the remnant of the wreck half-way across the barrier, tipping it
forward, and letting it down with a final shattering crash; and the
white horse, hurled violently forth, sank deep into the tumult behind
the reef.

The schooner which had fallen on such sudden doom among the St. Lawrence
reefs had sailed from Oporto with a cargo, chiefly wine, for Quebec.
Driven far south of her course by a terrific northeaster roaring down
from Labrador, she had run into a fog as the wind fell, and been swept
to her fate in the grip of an unknown tide-drift. On board, as it
chanced, travelling as an honoured passenger, was a finely bred, white
Spanish stallion of Barb descent, who had been shipped to Canada by one
of the heads of the great house of Robin, those fishing-princes of
Gaspe. When the vessel struck, and it was seen that her fate was
imminent and inevitable, the captain had loosed the beautiful stallion
from his stall, that at the last he might at least have a chance to
fight his own fight for life. And so it came about that, partly through
his own agile alertness, partly by the singular favour of fortune, he
had avoided getting his slim legs broken in the hideous upheaval and
confusion of the wreck.

[Illustration: "HE STRUCK OUT DESPERATELY, AND SOON CLEARED THE TURMOIL
OF THE BREAKERS."]

When the white stallion came to the surface, snorting with terror and
blowing the salt from his wide nostrils, he struck out desperately, and
soon cleared the turmoil of the breakers. Over the vast, smooth swells
he swam easily, his graceful, high head out of water. But at first, in
his bewilderment and panic, he swam straight seaward. In a few moments,
however, as he saw that he seemed to be overcoming disaster very well,
his wits returned, and the nerve of his breeding came to his aid.
Keeping on the crest of a roller, he surveyed the situation keenly,
observed the land, and noted the maze of reefs that tore the leaden
surges into tumult. Instead of heading directly shoreward,
therefore,--for every boiling whiteness smote him with horror,--he
shaped his course in on a long slant, where the way seemed clear.

Once well south of the loud herd of reefs, he swam straight inshore,
until the raving and white convulsion of the surf along the base of the
cliff again struck terror into his heart; and again he bore away
southward, at a distance of about three hundred yards outside the
breakers. Strong, tough-sinewed, and endowed with the un