wester hat. The panting voice
belonged to Sam Udy--son of old Bill Udy--a labourer at Tresedder.

"I'll go at once," said Mr. Raymond. "Run you for the coast-guard!"

The oilskins went by the window; the side gate clashed to.

"Is it a wreck?" cried Taffy. "May I go with you?"

"Yes, there may be a message to run with."

From the edge of the towans, where the ground dipped steeply to the
long beach, they saw the wreck, about a mile up the coast, and as
well as they could judge a hundred or a hundred and twenty yards out.
She lay almost on her beam ends, with the waves sweeping high across
her starboard quarter and never less than six ranks of ugly breakers
between her and dry land. A score of watchers--in the distance they
looked like emmets--were gathered by the edge of the surf. But the
coast-guard had not arrived yet.

"The tide is ebbing, and the rocket may reach. Can you see anyone
aboard?"

Taffy spied through his hands, but could see no one. His father set
off running, and he followed, half-blinded by the rain, now
floundering in loose sand, now tripping in a rabbit hole. They had
covered three-fourths of the distance when Mr. Raymond pulled up and
waved his hat as the coast-guard carriage swept into view over a
ridge to the right and came plunging across the main valley of the
towans. It passed them close--the horses fetlock-deep in sand, with
heads down and heaving, smoking shoulders; the coast-guardsmen with
keen strong faces like heroes'--and the boy longed to copy his father
and send a cheer after them as they went galloping by. But something
rose in his throat.

He ran after the carriage, and reached the shore just as the first
rocket shot singing out towards the wreck. By this time at least a
hundred miners had gathered, and between their legs he caught a
glimpse of two figures stretched at length on the wet sand. He had
never looked on a dead body before. The faces of these were hidden
by the crowd; and he hung about the fringe of it dreading, and yet
courting, a sight of them.

The first rocket was swept down to leeward of the wreck. The chief
officer judged his second beautifully, and the line fell clean across
the vessel and all but amidships. A figure started up from the lee
of the deckhouse, and springing into the main shrouds, grasped it and
made it fast. The beach being too low for them to work the cradle
clear above the breakers, the coast-guardsmen carried the shore end