A man was standing by the rope, with what appeared to be a bundle in his arms.  The moment we came near, he seized his opportunity and threw it to us.  My grandfather caught it.

[Illustration:  ‘It’s A child, Alick’, he said, ‘put it down by you’]

‘It’s a child, Alick!’ he said; ‘put it down by you.’

I put the bundle at my feet, and my grandfather cried, ’Now another; quick, my lads!’

But at this moment Jem Millar seized his arm.  ‘Sandy! look out!’ he almost shrieked.

My grandfather turned round.  A mighty wave, bigger than any I had seen before, was coming towards us.  In another moment we should have been dashed by its violence against the ship, and all have perished.

My grandfather hastily let go the rope, and we just got out of the way of the ship before the wave reached us.  And then came a noise, loud as a terrible thunder-clap, as the mighty wave dashed against Ainslie Crag.  I could hardly breathe, so dreadful was the moment!

‘Now back again for some more!’ cried my grandfather, when the wave had passed.

We looked round, but the ship was gone!  It had disappeared like a dream when one awakes, as if it had never been.  That mighty wave had broken its back, and shattered it into a thousand fragments.  Nothing was to be seen of the ship or its crew but a few floating pieces of timber.

My grandfather and Millar pulled hastily to the spot, but it was some time before we could reach it, for we had been carried by the sea almost a mile away, and the storm seemed to be increasing in violence.

When at last we reached that terrible Ainslie Crag, we were too late to save a single life; we could not find one of those on board.  The greater number no doubt had been carried down in the vortex made by the sinking ship, and the rest had risen and sunk again long before we reached them.

For some time we battled with the waves, unwilling to relinquish all hope of saving some of them.  But we found at last that it was of no use, and we were obliged to return.

All had perished, except the child lying at my feet.  I stooped down to it, and could hear that it was crying, but it was so tightly tied up in a blanket that I could not see it nor release it.

We had to strain every nerve to reach the lighthouse.  It was not so hard returning as going, for the wind was in our favour, but the sea was still strong, and we were often in great danger.  I kept my eyes fixed on the lighthouse lamps, and steered the boat as straight as I could.  Oh! how thankful we were to see those friendly lights growing nearer.  And at last the pier came in sight, and Mrs. Millar still standing there watching us.

‘Have you got none of them?’ she said, as we came up the steps.

‘Nothing but a child,’ said my grandfather sadly.  ’Only one small child, that’s all.  Well, we did our very best, Jem, my lad.’