prompt response, "Ay, ay, sir!" to relieve the sobs and cries of the children.

"We find them, on the 22nd of April, half drowned, half frozen, without shelter, and without food. Had the end come? Not yet. Heaven again came to their rescue: a bear was sighted, pursued, killed, brought back to the camp' in triumph, and speedily devoured. On the 28th, three young seals fell to the hunters' rifles, and abundance reigned. On the same day they were cheered by the appearance of a steamer making her way through the ice to the south-west; and though she did not see them, it infused new hope into their hearts, as it was a sign and a token that they might now expect to be relieved. And, indeed, on the following day another steamer was seen. Three volleys were fired, colours were hoisted, loud shouts were raised, but these combined efforts failed to draw her attention to the little company on the ice-raft. A third steamer afterwards came in sight, but did not bring them deliverance."

This, however, was not long delayed. On the 30th a fourth steamer was seen through the fog, and made out Captain Tyson's signals. She bore down to the piece of ice which still carried them, took them all on board-men, women, and children, entertained them with hospitality, and conveyed them to St. John's, Newfoundland, whence the United States steamship Frolic carried them to New York. They arrived there on the 5th of June, 1873.

far better than in her Sunday clothes. If the morning were fine, she sat out in the sun and baited the lines, all the while lilting old country songs in her guttural dialect. In the evening she would spend some time chatting with other lasses in the Row; but she never had a very long spell of that pastime, for she had to be at work winter and summer by about five or six in the morning. The fisherfolk do not waste many candles by keeping late hours.

She was very healthy and powerful, very ignorant, and very modest. Had she lived by one of the big harbours, where fleets of boats come in, she might have been as rough and brazen as the girls often are in those places. But in her secluded little village the ways of the people were old-fashioned and decorous, and girls were very restrained in their manners. No one would have taken her to be anything more than an ordinary country girl, had not & chance enabled her to show herself full of bravery and resource.

"Every boat in the village went away north one evening, and not a man remained in the Row excepting three very old fellows, who were long past work of any kind. When a fisherman grows helpless with age he is kept by his own people, and his days are passed in quietly smoking on the kitchen settle, or in looking dimly out over the sea from the bench at the door. But a man must be sorely failed' before he is reduced to idleness, and able to do nothing that needs strength. A southerly gale, with a southerly sea, came away in the night, and the boats could not beat down from the northward. By daylight they were

"Until she was nineteen years old, Dorothy lived a very uneventful life, for one week was much the same as another in the placid existence of the village. On Sunday mornings, when the church bells began to ring, you would meet her walking over the moor with a springy step. Her shawl was gay, and her dress was of the most pronounced colour that could be bought in the market-town. Her brown hair was gathered in a net, and her calm eyes looked from under an old-fashioned bonnet of straw. Her feet were always bare, but she carried her shoes and stockings slung over her shoulder. When she got near the church she sat down in the shade of a hedge and put them on; then she walked the rest of the distance with a cramped and civilised gait.

On Monday mornings she carried the water from the well. Her great skeel' was poised easily on her head; and, as she strode along singing lightly without shaking a drop of water over the edge of her pail, you could see how she had come by her erect carriage.

When the boats came in she went down to the beach, and helped to carry the baskets of fish to the cart. She was then dressed in a sort of thick flannel blouse; her head was bare, and she looked

wind reached its height, the sounds it made in the hollows were like distant firing of small-arms, and the waves in the hollow rocks seemed to shake the ground over the cliffs.

"A little schooner came round the point, running before the sea. She might have got clear away, because it was easy enough for her, had she clawed a short way out, risking the beam sea, to have made the harbour where the fishers were. But the skipper kept her close in, and presently she struck on a long tongue of rocks that trended far out eastward. The tops of her masts seemed nearly to meet, so it ap peared as if she had broken her back. The seas flew sheer over her, and the men had to climb into the rigging. All the women were watching and waiting to see her go to pieces. There was no chance of getting a boat out, so the helpless villagers waited to see the men drown; and the women cried in their shrill, piteous manner. Dorothy said, Will she break up in an hour? If I thowt she could hing there, I would be away for the lifeboat.' But the old men said, You can never cross the burn.'

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Four miles south, behind the point, there was a village where a lifeboat was kept; but halfway a stream ran into sea, and across this stream there was only a plank bridge. Half a mile below the bridge the water spread far over the broad sand and became very shallow and wide. Dorothy spoke no more, except to say, 'I'll away.'

"She ran across the moor for a mile, and then

scrambled down to the sand so that the tearing wind might not impede her. It was dangerous work for the next mile. Every yard of the way she had to splash through the foam, because the great waves were rolling up very nearly to the foot of the cliffs. An extra strong sea might have caught her off her feet, but she did not think of that; she only thought of saving her breath by escaping the direct onslaught of the wind. When she came to the mouth of the burn her heart failed her for a little. There was three-quarters of a mile of water covered with creamy foam, and she did not know but what she might be taken out of her depth. Yet she determined to risk, and plunged in at a run. The sand was hard under foot, but, as she said, when the piled foam came softly up to her waist she felt gey funny.' Half-way across she stumbled into a hole caused by a swirling eddy, and she thought all was over; but her nerve never failed her, and she struggled till she got a footing again. When she reached the hard.

ground she was wet to the neck, and her hair was dripping with her one plunge 'overhead.' Her clothes troubled her with their weight in crossing the moor; so she put off all she did not need and pressed forward again. Presently she reached the house where the coxswain of the lifeboat lived. She gasped out, The schooner! On the Letch! Norrad.'

"The coxswain, who had seen the schooner go past, knew what was the matter. He said, 'Here, wife, look after the lass,' and ran out. The lass' needed looking after, for she had fainted. But her work was well done; the lifeboat went round the point, ran north, and took six men ashore from the schooner. The captain had been washed overboard, but the others were saved by Dorothy's daring and endurance. The girl is as simple as ever, and she knows nothing whatever about Grace Darling. If she were offered any reward she would probably wonder why she should receive one."

T the foot of the Dornée mountains lay | the little village of Fechant. The country around was beautiful, but the lovely plains, which were so richly cultivated in summer, were now covered with snow.

It was noon, and the sun shone upon the village; its rays gleamed and dazzled Dame Ternor's eyes as she stood industriously hanging out some clothes to dry which she had just been washing. Dame Ternor was the village schoolmaster's wife. She had rather a crusty temper, but she was kind and good at heart; many excuses could be made for the poor soul: she had much to try her, for the children around her table were many, and the bread she had to give them was scanty.

Sounds of merriment were to be heard from an adjoining field, where a number of boys were playing. It was a scene of much confusion: some boys were jumping, others were running, and the merry laughter that rang through the air showed the joyousness of their spirits.

In a corner of the field, under a tree, away from the rest, was a group of six boys. The tallest, and evidently the eldest, was lying on the ground. He was a strong, powerful-looking boy, with sturdy limbs; his face was handsome, the glow of health on his cheek, and the brightness of his eye alone would have made the face attractive, without the regular cut features and the mouth with its well-shaped lips. But he would have appeared handsomer if the boy who stood nearest him had been elsewhere. He was quite a contrast to the elder boy in every respect; his little figure was slight and thin, but what he lacked in beauty of form was quite redeemed by the grace and dignity of his carriage; his features were not so

perfect in shape as those of his companion, but the bright, intelligent expression of his face more than atoned for any other defect.

“I am very tired of these games," said Bruan, the elder of the two boys. "It is always the same thing over and over again.

"What would you like to do ?" said the boys who stood around. Bruan was a great favourite; the boys respected him for his superior strength, and his bright daring spirit, but this homage had tended to make his naturally proud nature tyrannical and selfish.

"You ask me what I should like to do. I want to have an adventure. The Gassé Rock is difficult to climb at any time, and there would be some credit in going to the top at night. I asked Karl to go with me," and he looked at the boy who stood beside him; "but he won't go, the poor little dear is afraid! "

At these words Karl started, and said, indignantly, "I am not afraid, and you had better take care what you say, for if you dare to repeat such words again to me, I will give you the soundest thrashing that you ever had in your life."

Bruan looked at him in astonishment, and his lip curled with amusement. Turning to the boys he said, "Is not this fun? Who would think that baby Karl could get so excited? The dear little girl must not say such things; what would mammy do if she were to hear him?"

"You

Karl's face became pale with indignation, and his voice sounded husky with passion. think," he said, "because you are stronger than I, that you may say and do as you like, but you are mistaken; I have borne with your insolence often but will bear it no longer ;" and saying this he seized a stick from the ground and struck Bruan a violent blow on the shoulder. In a minute Bruan

By this time they had come to a very steep hill. Side by side the boys climbed up, the snow on the ground made it very slippery and difficult to walk, but they never rested until they found themselves at the foot of the Gassé Rock. This marvellous rock towered above them, making them feel unusually small and insignificant; it was an enormous height and almost perfectly flat; it was quite impossible for any human being to ascend it on that side.

"Surely we are not going to be beaten?" said Bruan, looking at the rock in dismay. "I know that it is possible to get up to the top, but I defy anyone unless he is a magician to mount that."

"Give me the lantern," said Karl, perhaps I shall be able to find a way." Karl took the lantern, and after groping about for some time, he at last found an opening between two rocks. With great difficulty he managed to scramble through. "It is all right, Bruan; come, follow me."

The other side of this rock was not quite so steep, there was a narrow craggy ridge winding to the top; this the boys followed, and as Karl was climbing up he incautiously placed his foot upon a loose stone, and his foot slipped; there was nothing for him to grasp hold of with his hands, so he rolled down and down the mountain side; fortunately, however, a projecting rock caught his coat and prevented him going further. Karl soon rose to his feet, shaken and bruised, but not much hurt.

"Are you hurt ?" cried Bruan, in rather an anxious tone.

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Oh no, but I don't think it will be an easy task to get up again." He set about accomplishing the task with a good heart, and, after some difficulty, succeeded in mounting to the place where Bruan stood. They began their labours again with renewed energy, but their progress was much impeded by the light in the lantern being extinguished; and the matches that Karl had with him were unfortunately lost when he fell down; undaunted by this catastrophe, the boys persevered in their journey. On the way they received many blows from projecting rocks, which were rendered invisible by the darkness. After many difficulties they succeeded in arriving at their destination. The boys gave a shout of joy when they found themselves at the top. Bruan held out his hand to Karl and said:

"Do forgive me for doubting your courage for one instant."

Karl took his hand, and shook it in silence, and from that moment all ill-feeling between these boys ceased, and they became firm friends.

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We had better return home now," said Karl, and he then began to realise what his mother's anxiety would be if she were to hear where he was. "Very well," replied Bruan; "but I don't think we shall find it a very easy task."

Down the boys descended, but the intense darkness prevented them seeing their way, and they had to, feel the rocks as they crept along. Bruan became impatient of their slow progress and hurried his footsteps. They came to a large stone which they had to climb. Bruan jumped to the top with an impatient quickness, which characterised his movements, and in doing so twisted his ankle and fell prostrate on the ground with such violence that he slipped down the rock into a deep chasm. Karl in terror mounted the

stone, but the darkness was so great that he could not see anything; he shouted Bruan's name, but received no response. He descended the rock, thinking there might be some other way to the chasm; he crept cautiously down,calling" Bruan ! Bruan!" but all was silence. An overpowering sense of drowsiness ce over him, his foot slipped, and he stumbled on the ground, and so weary did he feel that he determined to rest for a moment; he placed his head on a stone, and soon fell fast asleep.

The

Karl's mother awoke before the break of day. On hearing no noise she concluded that Karl had gone to bed, so she quietly lay her head on the pillow and was soon asleep again. Very early the next morning she rose, dressed herself, and, as was her custom, opened Karl's door, expecting to find him sleeping as usual. Great was her surprise and alarm at not finding him there. In terror she ran out of the house. villagers were now astir, and were much surprised to see Marie Féant in such distress. On hearing her trouble, great astonishment was expressed at Karl's sudden disappearance. They were all wondering where he was, when Bruan's little brother joined them and told them of the scene that took place yesterday, and of Bruan and Karl's determination to mount the Gassé Rock. At these words, Marie Féant gave a wild cry of horror. The elders looked grave and shook their heads.

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We must go at once to search for them," said Father Abbo to Bruan's father.

While they were preparing for departure they did. not notice that Marie Féant had disappeared, but in the distance they could just discern her figure hurriedly climbing the mountain. Not waiting any longer they started, accompanied by Karl's dog, Osso.

They felt convinced that before long they would succeed in overtaking Marie Féant; they determined to persuade her to return, but suddenly she disappeared from their sight. They had last seen her climbing up the mountain far away above them, and so they concluded that some high rock had hid her from view.

The dog had evidently found the scent, for he was running steadily on, with his head bent upon the ground, never pausing for an instant. The men eagerly followed him. When the dog came to the steep rock which for a time had baffled the boys' daring spirit, he stopped and barked excitedly, running backwards and forwards. At last the dog discovered the opening through which the boys had passed through. With a yelp of delight the dog leaped through the hole, the men had some difficulty in following, as the hole was very small, but after several struggles they at length succeeded in squeezing their bodies through. The dog had gone far ahead, but they had no difficulty in following, as the marks on the snow served as a guide.

After much difficulty they succeeded in mounting the top, where they found Osso in great distress; he had evidently lost the scent, and was barking and howling in a very painful manner. The dog hunted and searched about for some time; after a while he seemed to have again found the scent, for he began barking loudly, and ran quickly down the mountain, wagging his tail with delight.

The two men followed as quickly as the dangers