“Ay, an’ was all the rest saved?” inquired the wife.
“No, none of ’em. A’ lost save one, a little child.”
“A child, lad!” exclaimed the wife in surprise; “what have ’ee done wi’ it?”
“Took it to its friends.”
As he said this the sailor gave his wife a look which induced her to refrain from further questioning on that subject.
“An’ who saved ye, Stephen?”
“God saved me,” replied the man, earnestly.
“True, lad; but was there none o’ the boys there to lend a hand?”
“No, none. It puzzled me a bit,” said Stephen, “for the lads are wont to be on the look-out on a night like this.”
“It needn’t puzzle ye, then,” replied the wife, as she set a chair for her husband at the table, and poured out a cup of tea, “for there’s bin two sloops an’ a schooner on the rocks off the pier-head for three hours past, an’ a’ the lads are out at them,—Uncle John among the rest. They’ve made him coxswain o’ the new lifeboat since ye last went to sea.”