This chanced to be the residence of the steward of the Purbeck stone quarries, who instantly collected his workmen, and furnished them with ropes. Next to the two men who had escaped, and after an interval in which many must have failed, a soldier and Mr. Meriton were trying to make their way to the summit, as the quarrymen arrived. They perceived the soldier, and dropped him a rope, of which he laid hold, but in the effort loosened the stone on which he stood, which also supported Mr. Meriton. The latter, however, seized another rope as he was in the very act of falling. He had probably the narrowest escape of all.
The perils of the rest were by no means at an end. The most fortunate crawled to the edge of the ledge and waited for the rope held by two strong men at the very brink of the cliff. Other ropes were tied about them and fastened to an iron bar fixed in the ground. Four other men, standing behind these, also held the rope which was let down, and we may be sure that they pulled with a will when the word was given.
Many of the poor shipwrecked souls, however, were too benumbed and weak to help themselves even thus far; and for these the rope, with a strong loop at the end of it, had to be let down. The force of the wind blew the rope into the cavern, when whoever was so fortunate as to catch it put the noose round his body and was drawn up. Many even of these perished from nervousness or loss of presence of mind. One especially, who lost his hold, fell into the sea, and being a strong swimmer, added to the general distress by dying, as it were, by inches before the eyes of the survivors.
It was evening before they found themselves in safety; indeed, one poor fellow, a soldier, remained in this perilous position until the next morning. On being mustered at the steward's house, they were found to number seventy-four out of a crew of two hundred and fifty.
They were treated with the utmost hospitality, and word of their coming was sent to the towns through which they would have to pass on their way to London, that they might be helped along. "It is worthy of commemoration," says the biographer, in which all my readers will agree, "that the landlord of the Brown Inn at Blandford not only refreshed all these distressed seamen at his house, but presented each with half a crown."
As one lies on the cliff-top above Peverel Point in the summer sun, with the blue sea below smiling so smoothly, it is difficult to imagine what took place in that unseen cavern beneath, or even the tears of joy which were shed by those who, after such a night of horror, set foot for the first time upon that grassy slope.
[THE SPECKLED PIG.]
BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.
"I'm glad spring's come," remarked Grandmother Gates, as she looked out through the kitchen window, "if it's only so that boy can spend his time out-of-doors. There isn't any house can hold him."