oured at their oars to force a path through the boiling, seething
waters. Once, as they drew off-shore, one of the rowers, either from loss
of strength or of courage, relaxed his hold for a moment; in an instant a
cutlass waved above his head, and one swift cruel stroke cut him down.
It was the last brutal deed that Cruel Coppinger was ever seen to do.

He and his men reached the ship and got on board. What happened
afterwards no one knows, for at the same moment she disappeared like some
ghostly, phantom ship, nobody knows where or how.

Then, in even more fearful violence than before, the storm raged and beat
on that coast. Hail, thunder, lightning, hurricanes of wind blinded,
deafened, or killed all who were exposed to it.

Round Coppinger's home it expended the very utmost of its fury;
trees were torn up by the roots, the thatch was blown off the outhouses,
chimneys fell, windows were blown in, and, as Dinah, terrified by the
uproar and destruction racing round her, stood holding her uncanny child
in her arms, through the roof and ceiling came crashing a monstrous
thunderbolt, surrounded by flames, and fell hissing at the very foot of
Cruel Coppinger's chair.

MADGE FIGGY, THE WRECKER.

Those of you who know Land's End, and that part of it called
Tol-pedn-penwith, cannot fail to have been struck by a huge cliff there,
in shape like a ladder, or flight of steps, formed of massive blocks of
granite, piled one upon another, and on the top of which there is perched
what looks like, and is, a monstrous granite chair.

'Madge Figgy's Chair' is its name, for in it Madge Figgy, who was a
wrecker by trade, used to sit and call up the storms, and here, while the
rough, cruel Atlantic boiled and lashed in impotent fury over the face of
the ladder, Madge sat cool and unconcerned, keeping a sharp look out for
any vessels coming in on that terrible coast.

As well as being a wrecker, Madge Figgy was one of the most cruel and
wicked witches in the county; and hour after hour she would sit in her
chair plotting mischief, or hurling curses at any unfortunate person or
thing who had happened to offend her. The poor country-folk were afraid
of their very lives of her, and whatever wicked things she told them to
do, they had to do them, for they knew her power and lived in terror of
offending her.

Amongst the witches she was the leader in all their frolics and revels and
wickedness. Getting astride her broomstick sh