urn or news of her misfortune: the like of which often happens on our
coast, where news proceeds only by word of mouth. 'Twas in part in hope
of catching sight of her barked topsail that we had gone to the
Watchman. But at that moment the _Trap and Seine_ lay snug at anchor in
Wayfarer's Tickle: there delayed for more civil weather in which to
attempt the passage of the Bay, for she was low in the water with her
weight of fish, and Skipper Tommy had a mind to preserve his good
fortune against misadventure. And, next day, the wind being still
unfavourable, he had Timmie row him ashore, that he might pass an hour
in talk with the men on Jagger's wharf: for there was nothing better to
do, and the wreck of the _Jessie Dodd_ was food of the choicest for
water-side gossip. To him, by and by, came Jagger's clerk: begging that
the _Trap and Seine_ might be got under weigh for our harbour within the
hour, for Jagger lay near death (having been taken in the night) and
sorely needed the doctor, lest he die.

"Die!" cried Skipper Tommy, much distressed. "That's fair awful. Poor
man! So sick as that?"

"Ay," the clerk replied, with a sharp little look into Skipper Tommy's
mild eyes, "he'll die."

"Ecod!" the skipper declared. "'Twill make the doctor sad t' know it!"

Skipper Tommy remembers that the clerk turned away, as if, for some
strange reason, to get command of himself.

"That he will," said the clerk.

"'Tis awful!" the skipper repeated. "I'll get the schooner t' sea this
minute. She's wonderful low in the water," he mused, pulling at his
nose; "but I'm thinkin' the doctor would rather save a life than get a
cargo o' green fish t' harbour."

"Dying, tell him," the clerk urged, smoothing his mouth with a lean
hand. "Dying--and in terror of hell."

"Afeared o' hell?"

"Gone mad with fear of damnation."

Skipper Tommy raised his hands. "That's awful!" he muttered, with a sad
shake of the head. "Tell that poor man the doctor will come. Tell un,
oh, tell un," he added, wringing his hands, "_not_ t' be afeared o'
hell!"

"Yes, yes!" the clerk exclaimed, impatiently. "Don't forget the message.
Jagger lies sick, and dying, and begging for help."

Skipper Tommy made haste to the small boat, the while raising a cry for
Timmie, who had gone about his own pleasure, the Lord knew where! And
Timmie ran down the path, as fast as his sea-boots would go: but was
intercepted by Jonas Jutt, who drew him into the lower fish-stage,