r for a
mile, and then scrambled down to the sand so that the tearing wind might
not impede her. It was dangerous work for the next mile. Every yard of
the way she had to splash through the foam, because the great waves were
rolling up very nearly to the foot of the cliffs. An extra strong sea
might have caught her off her feet, but she did not think of that; she
only thought of saving her breath by escaping the direct onslaught of
the wind. When she came to the mouth of the burn her heart failed her
for a little. There was three-quarters of a mile of water covered with
creamy foam, and she did not know but what she might be taken out of her
depth. Yet she determined to risk it, and plunged in at a run. The sand
was hard under foot, but, as she said, when the piled foam came softly
up to her waist she "felt gey funny." Half-way across she stumbled into
a hole caused by a swirling eddy, and she thought all was over; but her
nerve never failed her, and she struggled till she got a footing again.
When she reached the hard ground she was wet to the neck, and her hair
was sodden with her one plunge "overhead." Her clothes troubled her with
their weight in crossing the moor; so she put off all she did not need
and pressed forward again. Presently she reached the house where the
coxswain of the lifeboat lived. She gasped out, "The schooner! On the
Letch! Norrad."

The coxswain, who had seen the schooner go past, knew what was the
matter. He said, "Here, wife, look after the lass," and ran out. The
"lass" needed looking after, for she had fainted. But her work was well
done; the lifeboat went round the point, ran north, and took six men
ashore from the schooner. The captain had been washed overboard, but the
others were saved by Dorothy's daring and endurance.

THE SILENT MEN.

Two very reckless fellows used always to go fishing together, and used
also to spend their leisure together. One was known as Roughit; and the
other was called Lance. Roughit was big, with heavy limbs and a rather
brutal face. He wore his hair and beard very long, and his eyes looked
morosely from under thick reddish eyebrows. He scarcely ever spoke to
anybody; and some of the superstitious fishermen did not like to meet
him in the morning, because they thought he always brought them bad
luck. Lance was a handsome man, with small hands and feet. He was not
like the shaggy giants of the village--and, indeed, it had been said
that some people at