I do not know how long the wild buffeting lasted, but I know that presently the bows of the boat appeared returning over a doubling sea, and as she made her downward flight I saw a black, huddled mass in her.

Then there was a rush, and the coble came up on the sand.  Only one trip was needed.  Five men were brought ashore; the other two hands had been taken overboard by one sea just before the ship lost her rudder.

Years went by, and I returned to dwell in cities.  One evening I went to dine at a club.  I was lounging in the reading-room, when a splendid-looking man attracted my attention.  He was a magnificently-built young fellow, with a fine beard, and bright, steel-blue eyes.  When he rose, I saw that he was perfectly dressed, and when he spoke to a waiter, his voice seemed deep, and his accent fine.

I looked down at my paper, and I then felt that he was looking at me.  When I looked up, he had risen, and was looking steadily in my face.  He made a step forward.

“Pardon me.  How very, very strange!” I said; “I’m at a loss to remember you.  You’ll forgive me.”

“Don’t you remember the Poachers’ Hollow, and the brig, and Burke, and the Differential?”

Then I knew, and we shook hands heartily.  We dined together, and he told me how his change of fortune had come about.

“It all came through that shipwreck,” he explained.

“How was that?”

“Well, directly I got home and changed, I sat down and wrote an account of the whole concern in some very gaudy prose, and I drove the pony into the town and handed the letter in at the ‘Sentinel’ office.  My account was printed.  Old Mr. Willits—­you remember him—­sent to the editor to know who had done it, and then sent for me.  He was very grumpy and crusty at first, but I explained my position to him simply, and he got very good humoured.  He sent me to a tutor for two years and a half; then I won a Trinity scholarship, and scored two or three other things; then I went to the University, and slogged like a slave.  Mr. Willits helped me.  I did very well in the Tripos—­not so well as men who started younger—­but still I landed ninth.  Now I’m principal of the new college that ——­ endowed, and I have a very good thing indeed.”

So my friend, the rabbit-catcher, became a successful man, and, I am sure, I wished him joy.

THE GIANTS.

In passing along the shores of the bay, on evenings when the water was smooth, you could hear a succession of dull thuds like the sound of distant guns.  Looking to eastward you saw a dark semicircular streak on the water, and inside this streak a coble glided slowly hither and thither.  One man rowed gently, letting his oars drop into the water with a slight splash, that could be heard nevertheless a long way off.  The sweeps were so long that the rower could not scull in the ordinary way, but crossed his arms