“Dud I say ut was a God-Almighty gale?  Ut was worse nor thot.  The devil himself must ha’ hod a hond un the brewun’ o’ ut, ut was thot fearsome.  I ha’ looked on some sights, but I om no carun’ tull look on the like o’ thot again.  No mon dared tull be un hus bunk.  No, nor no mon on the decks.  All honds of us stood on top the house an’ held on an’ watched.  The three mates was on the poop, with two men ot the wheel, an’ the only mon below was thot whusky-blighted captain snorun’ drunk.

“An’ then I see ut comun’, a mile away, risun’ above all the waves like an island un the sea—­the buggest wave ever I looked upon.  The three mates stood tulgether an’ watched ut comun’, a-prayun’ like we thot she would no break un passun’ us.  But ut was no tull be.  Ot the last, when she rose up like a mountain, curlun’ above the stern an’ blottun’ out the sky, the mates scattered, the second an’ third runnun’ for the mizzen-shrouds an’ climbun’ up, but the first runnun’ tull the wheel tull lend a hond.  He was a brave men, thot Samuel Henan.  He run straight un tull the face o’ thot father o’ all waves, no thunkun’ on humself but thunkun’ only o’ the shup.  The two men was lashed tull the wheel, but he would be ready tull hond un the case they was kult.  An’ then she took ut.  We on the house could no see the poop for the thousand tons o’ watter thot hod hut ut.  Thot wave cleaned them out, took everythung along wuth ut—­the two mates, climbun’ up the mizzen-ruggun’, Samuel Henan runnun’ tull the wheel, the two men ot the wheel, aye, an’ the wheel utself.  We never saw aught o’ them, for she broached tull what o’ the wheel goun’, an’ two men o’ us was drownded off the house, no tull mention the carpenter thot we pucked up ot the break o’ the poop wuth every bone o’ hus body broke tull he was like so much jelly.”

And here enters the marvel of it, the miraculous wonder of that woman’s heroic spirit.  Margaret Henan was forty-seven when the news came home of the loss of Samuel; and it was not long after that the unbelievable rumour went around Island McGill.  I say unbelievable.  Island McGill would not believe.  Doctor Hall pooh-pooh’d it.  Everybody laughed at it as a good joke.  They traced back the gossip to Sara Dack, servant to the Henans’, and who alone lived with Margaret and her husband.  But Sara Dack persisted in her assertion and was called a low-mouthed liar.  One or two dared question Tom Henan himself, but beyond black looks and curses for their presumption they elicited nothing from him.

The rumour died down, and the island fell to discussing in all its ramifications the loss of the Grenoble in the China seas, with all her officers and half her crew born and married on Island McGill.  But the rumour would not stay down.  Sara Dack was louder in her assertions, the looks Tom Henan cast about him were blacker than ever, and Dr. Hall, after a visit to the Henan house, no longer pooh-pooh’d.