an to-night, and I am no child of yours. I will beg, I
will crawl through the world on my hands, but never more will I eat
the bread of crime!'

'Take her away, Pierre,' said one more ruffianly than the rest, 'or
you may repent it.'

'Go, girl, go,' whispered Pierre faintly, while the wreckers moved in
a body to the shore, where the boats were about to strike.

'Never!' shrieked Madeleine, clinging franticly to her father's
clothes.

'Let me go!' cried Pierre, dragging her with him.

At that moment a terrible event interrupted their struggle. A man
stood upright in the foremost boat, guiding their progress. Just as
they were within two yards of the shore, this man saw the wreckers
coming down in a body.

'As I expected!' he cried in a loud ringing voice. 'Fire!--shoot every
one of the villains!'

A volley of small arms, within pistol-shot of the body of wreckers,
was the unexpected greeting which these men received. A loud and
terrible yell shewed the way in which the discharge had told. One-half
of the pillagers fell on the stony beach, the other half fled.

Among those who remained was Madeleine. She was kneeling by her
father, who had received several shots, and lay on the ground in
agony.

'You were right, girl,' he groaned; 'I see it now, when it is too
late, and I feel I have deserved it.'

'Better,' sobbed Madeleine, 'better be here, than have imbrued your
hands in the blood of one of those miraculously-delivered sailors.'

'Say you so, woman?' said a loud voice near her. 'Then you are not one
of the gang. I knew them of old, as well as their infernal cut-throat
gorge, and pulled straight for it, but quite prepared to give them a
warm reception.'

Madeleine looked up. She saw around her more than fifty men, three
women, and some children. She shuddered again at the thought of the
awful massacre which would have occurred but for the sailor's
prudence.

'My good girl,' continued the man, 'we are cold, wet, and hungry; can
you shew us to some shelter?'

'Yes; but do you bid some of your men carry my father, who, I fear, is
dying.'

'It is no more than he merits,' replied the man; 'but for your sake I
will have him taken care of.'

'It is what I merit,' said Pierre, in a strange and loud tone; 'but
not from your hands, Jacques.'

'Merciful God!' cried the sailor, 'whose voice is that?'

'You will soon know; but do as your sister bids you, and then we can
talk more at ease.'

Madeleine cast