, and holdest the waters in the hollow of
thy hand, protect--protect my child!"

The waters rioted with redoubled fury. Her strength seemed failing,
but a smile of hope still lighted up her features, and her hand yet
grasped her apparently lifeless burden. Despair again brooded on the
countenances of her friends. For a moment, she disappeared amongst the
waves; but the next, Agnes Crawford lay senseless on the beach, her arm
resting on the bosom of him she had snatched from a watery grave--on
the bosom of her husband.

They were borne to their own house, where, in a few minutes, she
recovered; but her husband manifested no sign of vitality. All the means
within their power, and that they knew, were resorted to, in order to
effect his resuscitation. Long and anxiously she wept over him, rubbing
his temples and his bosom, and, at length, beneath her hand his breast
first began to heave with the returning pulsation of his heart.

"He lives!--he breathes!" she exclaimed; and she sank back in a state of
unconsciousness, and was carried from the room. The preacher attended by
the bedside, where the unconscious fisherman lay, directing and
assisting in the operations necessary for restoring animation.

In a few hours the fisherman awoke from his troubled sleep, which many
expected would have been the sleep of death. He raised himself in the
bed--he looked around wistfully. Agnes, who had recovered, and returned
to the room, fell upon his bosom. "My Agnes!--my poor Agnes!" he cried,
gazing wistfully in her face--"but, where--where am I?--and my bairnies,
where are they?"

"Here, faither, here!" cried the children, stretching out their little
arms to embrace him.

Again he looked anxiously around. A recollection of the past, and a
consciousness of the present, fell upon his mind. "Thank God!" he
exclaimed, and burst into tears; and when his troubled soul and his
agitated bosom had found in them relief, he inquired, eagerly--"But, oh,
tell me, how was I saved?"

"John," said the aged elder, the father of Agnes, "ye was saved by the
merciful and sustaining power o' that Providence which ye this morning
set at nought. But I rejoice to find that your heart is not hardened,
and that the awful visitation which has this day filled our coast with
widows and with orphans, has not fallen upon you in vain; for ye
acknowledge your guilt, and are grateful for your deliverance. Your
being saved is naething short o' a miracle. We a' be