"There was no time to fix the rocket apparatus. She was late in
making her distress signals. But I doubt if anything could have been
done. She went down too quickly."

"But--" Taffy's gaze wandered to the bald head.

"He was washed clean over the ridge where she struck, and swept into
Innis Pool--one big wave carried him into safety--one man out of
six."

"Hallelujah!" cried the rescued man facing round in his chair.
"Might ha' been scat like an egg-shell, and here I be shoutin'
praises!" Taffy saw that he was a clean-shaven little fellow, with
puckered cheeks and two wisps of grey hair curling forward from his
ears.

Mr. Raymond frowned. "I am sure," said he, "you ought not to be
talking so much."

"I will sing and give praise, sir, beggin' you pardon, with the best
member that I have. Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is offended
and I burn not? Hallelujah! A-men!"

He took his basin of bread and milk from Humility's hand, and ate by
the fire. She had wrung his clothes through fresh water, and as soon
as they were thoroughly dry he retired upstairs to change. He came
back to his seat by the fire.

"Now, I be like 'Possel Paul," he said, rubbing his hands, and
stretching them out to the blaze. "After his shipwreck, you know,
when the folks 'pon the island showed en kindness. This is the
Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in your eyes.

"'Not fearing nor doubting,
With Christ by my side,
I hopes to die shouting,
The Lord will provide!'"

Humility thought that for certain the shipwreck had turned his head.

"But where do you come from?" she asked.

"They call me Jacky Pascoe, ma'am; but I calls myself the King's
Postman--

"'Jacky Pascoe is my name,
Wendron is my nation,
Nowhere is my dwelling-place,
For Christ is my salvation--'

"I was brought to a miner, over to Wheal Jewel, in Illogan Parish;
but got conversion fifteen years since, an' now I go about praising
the Name. I've been miner, cafender, cooper, mason, seaman,
scissor-grinder, umbrella-mender, holli-bubber, all by turns.
I sticks my hands in my pockets, an' waits on the Lord; an' what he
tells me to do, I do. This day week I was up to Fowey, working on
the tip.[1] There was a little schooner there, the _Garibaldi_, of
Newport, discharging coal. The Lord said to me, 'Arise, go in that
there schooner!' I sought out the skipper, and said, 'Where be bound
for