ONE STORMY NIGHT.

"Mother, we're afloat agin." It was a gruff, sleepy voice that spoke,rnand the old fisherman turned over and snored on, as though the fact ofrntheir home being afloat was of no consequence to him. His wife, however,rnwas by no means so easy in her mind, for it was only during thernequinoctial gales and an unusually high tide that their home was liftedrnfrom its moorings; and now it had been swinging and swaying for hours,rnand the rusty chains that held it fast to some posts were creaking andrnstraining as though the next gust of wind would certainly carry them outrnto sea or drive them up the river, where they would inevitably bernswamped in a very short time, for their boat-home was leaky at thernbottom--had been a water-logged boat before the fisherman tookrnpossession of it and turned it into a quaint-looking cottage by runningrnup some wooden walls along the sides, and roofing it in with planks andrntarpaulin. Thus converted into a dwelling-house, the boat had beenrnsecured, by four chains fixed to posts in the ground, on the top of arnmud-bank that formed the boundary of the mouth of the river.rnrnThe ocean itself was less than a quarter of a mile from where the oldrnboat was moored, and so the poor woman might well be excused for growingrnmore alarmed as the minutes went on and the gale increased, until thernboat fairly rocked, and the children in the adjoining cabin began cryingrnand screaming in their fright.rnrn"Coomber! Coomber!" she said at last, shaking her husband, and startingrnup in bed; for a sound more dreadful than the children's screams hadrnmade itself heard above the din of the wind and waves.rnrn"There's a ship, Coomber, close in shore; I can hear the guns!" screamedrnhis wife, giving him another vigorous shake.rnrn"Ship! guns!" exclaimed the old fisherman, starting up in bed. The nextrnminute he was on his feet, and working himself into his clothes. "Shernmust be on the sand-bar if you heard the guns," he said.rnrnA sudden lurch of the boat almost pitched the old man forward, and thernchildren's screams redoubled, while Mrs. Coomber hastily scrambled outrnof bed and lighted the lantern that hung against the wall.rnrn"What are yer going to do?" asked her husband, in some surprise; "womenrnain't no good in such work as this."rnrn"What are you going to do?" asked Mrs. Coomber, almost crying herself;"the boat will soon be adrift with this wind and tide, and we shall allrnbe drowned like rats in a hole."rnrn"Nay, nay, old woman, the boat was made taut enough before I brought yournhere, and you think she wouldn't have broke away before this if she wasrngoing to do it? Don't be a stupid lubber," he added.rnrn"But the children, Coomber, the children. I ain't afraid for myself,"rnsaid the mother, with a sob.rnrn"Well, well, the old boat'll hold the boys for many a day yet," said thernfisherman; "you go in and stop their noise, while I get help for thernpoor souls that are surely perishing out there."rnrn"But what can you do for them?" asked his wife; "there ain't a boatrnbesides ours at Bermuda Point, nor a man to help you manage it besidesrnBob."rnrn"No, no; Bob and I couldn't manage the boat in such a sea as this; butrnhe shall go with me to Fellness. Bob! Bob!" called his father, in thernsame breath.rnrn"Aye, aye," came an answering shout from the adjoining cabin.rnrn"Slip into your things as quick as you can; we must be off to Fellness;rnthere's a ship out there on the bar sands."rnrn"I'm a'most ready, dad; I heard mother call yer, and thought you'd letrnme go along," replied Bob.rnrnBefore the fisherman put on his sou'-wester he took a black bottle fromrna recess, and after taking a hearty draught, he said, "It's lucky we'verngot a drop to-night," as he handed it to his wife; and with a partingrnword to her not to be afraid, he and Bob stepped out of the boat-houserndoor, to meet the full fury of the blast, that threatened at first torncarry them off their legs. The three miles' walk to the little fishingrnvillage of Fellness was no easy task such a wild night as this, forrnalthough the road was inland, it was fully exposed to the sea, andrnbetween the wilder outbreaks of the wind and rain they could hear thernguns of distress, and occasionally see a rocket piercing the midnightrnblackness of the sky, appealing for help for the drowning men.rnrnAt the coastguard station, midway between the Point and the village,rnthey found the men on the alert, and two volunteered to go with Coomberrnand help man the boat. Then the four plodded silently along the slushyrnroad, for talking was next to impossible in such a gale, and it neededrnall the strength and energy they could muster to fight the wind andrnrain.rnrnThey made their way to the beach as soon as they reached Fellness, and,rnas they expected, found most of the men gathered there, watching therndistressed vessel.rnrn"Halloo! here's Coomber from the Point," said one, as the new-comersrnpushed their way in among them.rnrn"What are yer standing here for?" shouted Coomber, in some impatience;"looking won't do her no good."rnrn"We can't do nothing else," said the man; "we've got Rodwell's boatrnhere--she's the best craft on this coast for such a trip, and we've madernthree tries in her, but it's no good; nothing could live in such a searnas this; we've been beat back every time, and well-nigh swamped."rnrn"Well, mates, I don't say nothing but what yer may have tried; butrnsuppose now one of yer had got a boy out in that there ship--_I've_ gotrna boy in that, or another, if he ain't gone to where there's no morernsea," said the old fisherman, with a groan; and before he had donernspeaking, one or two had moved to where the boat had been dragged on tornthe low sandy shore.rnrn"We'll try again," they said, in quiet but determined voices.rnrn"Let the youngsters go," said Coomber, as two or three married menrnpressed forward; "them as has got wives ain't no call to go on such arntrip as this. There'll be enough of us; there's me and Bob, and Rook andrnWhite came with us a purpose, and----"rnrn"But how about your wife, Coomber?" interrupted one of the men.rnrn"Oh, never you fear, lads; she'll not grudge me if I save her boy. Now,rnlads, look here; seven of us'll be enough, and we've got four."rnrnThere were so many volunteers for the three vacant places, that the menrnseemed on the point of quarrelling among themselves now for thernprivilege of joining in this dangerous errand; but by common consentrnCoomber was constituted the leader of the party, and he chose three ofrnthe most stalwart of the single men, and the rest were allowed to runrnthe boat down through the surf. Then, with a loud cheer from all whornstood on the shore, the seven brave men bent to their oars, and during arnslight lull in the wind, they made a little headway towards the wreck.rnBut the next minute they were beaten back again, and the boat well-nighrnswamped. Again they pushed off, but again were they driven back; andrnfive times was this repeated, and thus an hour was lost in the fruitlessrnendeavour to get away from the shore. At length the fury of the stormrnsomewhat abated, and they were able to get away, but it was a long timernbefore they could get near the dangerous bar sands, on which the vesselrnhad struck, and when they did get there, the ship had disappeared. Therernwas plenty of wreckage about--broken spars, fragments of masts and tornrnsail-cloth.rnrn"We're too late," groaned one of the men, as he peered through therndarkness, trying to descry the hull of the vessel. They had not heardrnthe guns or seen a rocket thrown up for some time.rnrn"They're all gone, poor fellows," said another, sadly; "we may as wellrngo back now, before the gale freshens again."rnrn"Oh, stop a bit; we'll look among this rubbish, and see what there isrnhere; perhaps some of them are holding on to the floating timber," saidrnCoomber, who had frequently been out on a similar errand.rnrnThey raised their voices together, and cried "Hi! hi!" trying tornoutscream the wind; but it was of no use; there was no answering callrnfor help, and after waiting about for some time, and going as near tornthe dangerous sands as they dared, they at length reluctantly turnedrntheir boat towards the shore, and began to row back. But before they hadrngot far on their way, they descried the gleam of something whiternfloating in front of them.rnrn"Only a bit of sail-cloth," said one, as they paused in their rowing tornconcentrate all their attention upon the object.rnrn"Let's make sure, mates," said Coomber. "Steady, now; mind your oars;rnlet her float; it's coming this way, and we'll pick it up;" and inrnanother minute Coomber had reached over and seized the white bundle,rnwhich he found to be carefully lashed to a spar.rnrn"It's a child!" he exclaimed. "Mates, we ain't come out for nothing,rnafter all. Now row for dear life," he said, as he carefully laid thernbundle in the bottom of the boat. They could do nothing for it here, notrneven ascertain whether it was dead or alive; and they pulled for thernshore with even greater eagerness than they had left it.rnrnThe dawn was breaking before they got back, and they were welcomed withrna shout from their waiting comrades, who were watching anxiously for thernreturn of the boat. There was disappointment, however, in the littlerncrowd of watchers when they saw only the brave crew returning from thernperilous journey.rnrn"What, nothing!" exclaimed one of the men, as the boat drew close inrnshore.rnrn"Only a child, and that may be dead," shouted one of the crew.rnrn"But I think it's alive," said Coomber. "Run, Peters, and rouse up yourrnmissus; the womenfolk are better hands at such jobs than we are;" and asrnsoon as he could leave the boat, he picked up the white bundle, andrnhurried after Peters, leaving his companions to tell the story of theirrndisappointment.rnrnMrs. Peters was a motherly woman, and had already lighted a fire tornprepare some breakfast for her husband, in readiness for his return fromrnthe beach, so the wet clothes were soon taken off the child, and theyrnsaw it was a little girl about five years old, fair andrndelicate-looking, decently, but not richly clad, with a small silverrnmedal hung round her neck by a black ribbon. At first they feared thernpoor little thing was dead, for it was not until Mrs. Peters hadrnwell-nigh exhausted all her best-known methods for restoring thernapparently drowned, that the little waif showed any sign of returningrnlife.rnrnCoomber stood watching with silent but intense anxiety the efforts ofrnthe dame to restore animation, not daring to join in the vigorousrnchafings and slappings administered, for fear his rough horny handsrnshould hurt the tender blue-white limbs.rnrnFor some time the woman was too much occupied with her task to noticernhis presence, but when her labour was rewarded by a faint sigh, and arnslightly-drawn breath parted the pale lips, she heard a grunt ofrnsatisfaction behind her; and turning her head, she exclaimed, "Whatrngowks men are, to be sure."rnrn"Eh, what is it, dame?" said Coomber, meekly; for he had conceived arnwonderful respect for Mrs. Peters during the last ten minutes.rnrn"Ha' you been a-standing there like a post all this while, and never putrnout yer hand to help save the child?" she said, reproachingly.rnrn"I couldn't, dame, I couldn't with such hands as these; but I'll dornanything for you that I can," whispered the fisherman, as though hernfeared to disturb the child.rnrn"Well, I want a tub of hot water," snapped Mrs. Peters. "You'll find therntub in the backyard, and the kettle's near on the boil. Look sharp andrnget the tub, and then go upstairs and get a blanket off the bed."rnrnCoomber soon brought the tub, and a pitcher of cold water that stoodrnnear, but it was not so easy for him to grope his way upstairs. Thernstaircase was narrow and dark, and seemed specially contrived that thernuninitiated might bump and bruise themselves. Coomber, in his boat-home,rnhaving no such convenience or inconvenience in general use, found thernascent anything but easy, and the dame's sharp voice was heard callingrnfor the blanket long before he had groped his way to the bedroom door.rnBut what would he not do for that child whose faint wail now greeted hisrnears? He pushed on, in spite of thumps and knocks against unexpectedrncorners, and when he had found the blanket, was not long in making hisrnway down with it.rnrn"Now what's to be done with her?" demanded the woman, as she lifted thernlittle girl out of the water, and wrapped her in the blanket.rnrn"Won't she drink some milk?" said Coomber, scratching his headrnhelplessly.rnrn"I dessay she will presently; but who's to keep her? You say there ain'trnnone of the people saved from the wreck to tell who she belongs to?"rnrn"No, there ain't none of 'em saved, so I think I'll take her myself,"rnsaid Coomber.rnrn"You take her!" exclaimed the woman; "what will your wife say, do yournthink, to another mouth to fill, when there's barely enough now for whatrnyou've got--four hearty boys, who are very sharks for eating?"rnrn"Well, dame, I've had a little gal o' my own, but ain't likely to havernanother unless I takes this one," said Coomber, with a little morerncourage, "and so I ain't a-going to lose this chance; for I do want arnlittle gal."rnrn"Oh, that's all very well; but you ain't no call to take this childrnthat's no ways your own. She can go to the workus, you know. Peters'llrntake her by-and-by. Her clothes ain't much, so her belongings ain'trnlikely to trouble themselves much about her. Yer can see by thisrntrumpery medal she don't belong to rich folks; so my advice is, let herrngo to the workus, where she'll be well provided for."rnrn"No, no! the missus'll see things as I do, when I talk to her a bit. Sornif you'll take care of her for an hour or two, while I go home and getrnoff these duds, and tell her about it, I'll be obliged;" and withoutrnwaiting for the dame's reply, Coomber left the cottage.