"So ye got nought from the wreck but a skiff-full of drink and food?"
"I bain't sayin' that, father dear, though it were as peaceful an' dacent a wrack as ever yer reverence heard tell of. Maybe yer reverence bes buildin' another church somewheres?—or a mission-house?—or sendin' money up-along to the poor haythens?"
"Aye, Denny, I am doing all these things," replied the priest. "Since first I set foot on Newfoundland I have built nine little churches, twelve mission-houses and one hospital—aye, and sent a mint of money to the poor folk of other lands. My dear parents left me a fortune of three hundreds of English pounds a year, Denny; and every year I give two hundred and fifty pounds of that fortune to the work of the Holy Church and beg and take twice as much more from the rich to give the poor."
The skipper nodded. This information was not new to him.
"I was thinkin', yer reverence, as how some day ye'd maybe be buildin' us a little church here in Chance Along," he said.
"It would take money, my son—money and hard work," returned the priest.
"Aye, father dear, 'twould take money an' work. There bes fifty golden sovereigns I knows of for yer reverence."
"Clean money?"
"Aye, yer reverence."
"From the wreck, Denny?"