patients from falling out), for no muscular power on earth could have enabled its possessor to keep his place on a high seat in that maddening jump.  It was enough to jerk the pipe from one’s mouth.  The deck was all the time in a smother of half-frozen slush, and the seas were so wall-sided that the said slush fell in great plumps from side to side with a force which plucked the men off their legs several times.  Again and again it appeared as if the smack must fall off the sides of the steep seas, as the long screw colliers sometimes do in the Bay of Biscay when the three crossing drifts meet.  It was a heartbreaking day, and, at the very worst, a smack bore down as if he meant to come right into the Mission vessel.  Sweeping under the lee and stopping his vessel, the smack’s skipper hailed.  “Got the doctor on board?” Down went the newcomer into the trough, leaving just a glimpse of his truck.  Up again with a rolling wave.  “Yes.  What’s up?”

“We’ve got a man dying here, and not one of my white-livered hounds will go in the small boat.”

“Can’t you persuade them?”

“No.  They’ll forfeit their voyage first.”

“Edge away from us, and I’ll see.”

By this time the two smacks were almost in collision, but they went clear.  The skipper went below and stated the case.  Ferrier listened grimly.

“What do you think, skipper?”

“Your life’s precious, sir.  You’ve come to be like the apple of my eye; I’d rather die myself than you should go.”

“Are your men game enough?”

“I’m going myself if you go.  If I die I shall be in my Master’s service.”

“Is it so very bad?”

“Very.”

“What’s our chance?”

“Ten to one against us ever coming back.”

“It’s long odds.  Shove the boat out.”

“Stop a bit, sir.  Don’t smile at an old man.  Let’s put it before the Lord.  I never found that fail.  Come, sir, and I’ll pray for you.”

“All cant,” do you say, reader?  Maybe, my friend, but I wish you and I could only have the heart that the words came from.  The skipper bared his good grey head, and prayed aloud.

“Lord, Thou knowest we are asked to risk our lives.  We are in Thine hands, and our lives are nothing.  Say, shall we go?  We shall know in our hearts directly if you tell us.  Spare us, if it be Thy will; if not, still Thy will be done.  We are all ready.”  After a pause the skipper said, “We’ll do it, sir.  Shove on your life-jacket.  I’ll take two life-buoys.”

Lennard had kneeled with the others, and he said, “Shall I go?”

“You’re too heavy, Tom.  You’ll over-drive the boat.  I’ll chance all.”