an injured world by its warmth and its sunshine. A chorus
of birds in the garden below filled the whole air with their wonder and
congratulations.

Down in the hall I found a number of the shipwrecked sailors, looking
all the better for their night's repose, who set up a buzz of pleasure
and gratitude upon seeing me.

Arrangements had been made to drive them to Wigtown, whence they were to
proceed to Glasgow by the evening train, and my father had given orders
that each should be served with a packet of sandwiches and hard-boiled
eggs to sustain him on the way.

Captain Meadows thanked us warmly in the name of his employers for the
manner in which we had treated them, and he called for three cheers from
his crew, which were very heartily given. He and the mate walked down
with us after we had broken our fast to have a last look at the scene of
the disaster.

The great bosom of the bay was still heaving convulsively, and its waves
were breaking into sobs against the rocks, but there was none of that
wild turmoil which we had seen in the early morning. The long, emerald
ridges, with their little, white crests of foam, rolled slowly and
majestically in, to break with a regular rhythm--the panting of a tired
monster.

A cable length from the shore we could see the mainmast of the barque
floating upon the waves, disappearing at times in the trough of the sea,
and then shooting up towards Heaven like a giant javelin, shining
and dripping as the rollers tossed it about. Other smaller pieces of
wreckage dotted the waters, while innumerable spars and packages were
littered over the sands. These were being drawn up and collected in
a place of safety by gangs of peasants. I noticed that a couple of
broad-winged gulls were hovering and skimming over the scene of the
shipwreck, as though many strange things were visible to them beneath
the waves. At times we could hear their raucous voices as they cried to
one another of what they saw.

"She was a leaky old craft," said the captain, looking sadly out to sea,
"but there's always a feeling of sorrow when we see the last of a ship
we have sailed in. Well, well, she would have been broken up in any
case, and sold for firewood."

"It looks a peaceful scene," I remarked. "Who would imagine that three
men lost their lives last night in those very waters?"

"Poor fellows," said the captain, with feeling, "Should they be cast
up after our departure, I am sure, Mr. West, that you wi