and me will come."

Then, knee deep in water, the forlorn little company prayed together. I
do not care to report such things--it verges on vulgarism; but I will
tell you a word or two that came from the maimed man. "O Lord, give me a
chance if you see fit; but let me go if any one is to go, and save my
commerades. I've been a bad 'un, and I haven't no right to ask nothing.
Save the others, and, if I have no chance in this world of a better
life, give me a look in before you take me."

Who could smile at the gruff, innocent familiarity? A very great poet
has said, "Consort much with powerful uneducated persons." Fellows like
Withers make one believe this.

The prayer was not, perhaps, intelligent; but He who searches the hearts
would rightly appraise those words, "I've been a bad 'un." Ferrier felt
lightened, and he shook hands with Larmor before they once more faced
the war of the night.

The fire was out, it was bitter chill, yet hope was left--- a faint
sparkle--but still a stay for the soul of the tempest-tossed men. The
climax of the breeze seemed approaching at four o'clock; and, as Larmor
said, "it couldn't he very much worse." The skipper was then hanging as
he best could to the mizen rigging; Lewis had his arms tightly locked on
the port side round the futtock shrouds, and was cowering to get clear
of the scourging wind. There was a wild shriek forward.

"Water, skipper!"

Lewis looked up. There it was, as high as the mast-head, compact as a