But Walter had already disappeared, having slipped off as soon as he had heard the message. "Don't let that boy get into mischief, Fergus," old Mrs. Davenant said. "I am afraid, mother, he is beyond me," her son said, with a smile. "No Davenant yet could ever keep out of mischief, and Walter is no exception. However, fortunately for us, we generally get out of scrapes as easily as we get into them." "Not always, Fergus," she said, shaking her head. "No, not always, mother; but exceptions, you know, prove the rule." "Well, Godfrey, do you want to go?" he asked the younger boy, who had risen from the table, and was looking eagerly at him. "Of course you do; but, mind, you must keep close to me. "Ah, Father John!" he broke off, as an ecclesiastic, muffled up to the throat in wrappings, entered the room. "Are you going down, too?" "Assuredly I am, Fergus. You don't think a trifle of wind would keep me from doing my duty?" In another two minutes, the two men and Godfrey sallied out. They staggered as the wind struck them, and Godfrey clung to his father's arm. Not a word was spoken as they made their way down the steep descent to the village, which consisted of about a dozen fishermen's huts. Indeed, speaking would have been useless, for no word would have been heard above the howling of the storm. The vessel was visible to them, as they made their way down the hill. She was a complete wreck. The light of the moon was sufficient for them to see that she had, as the boy said, lost her foremast. Her sails were in ribbons, and she was labouring heavily in the sea, each wave that struck her breaking over her bows and sweeping along her deck. There was no hope for her. She could neither tack nor wear, and no anchor would hold for a moment on that rocky bottom, in such a sea. On reaching the village, they joined a group of fishermen who were standing under the shelter of the end of a cottage. "Can nothing be done, Considine?" Mr. Davenant shouted, in the ear of one of the fishermen. "Not a thing, yer honour. She has just let drop one of her anchors." "But they could not hope it would hold there," Mr. Davenant said. "Not they, your honour, onless they were mad. They hoped it would hoult so as to bring her head round; but the cable went, as soon as the strain came. I saw her head go sharp up to the wind, and then fall off again; not that it would have made much difference in the end, though it would have given them half an hour longer of life." "Could we get a boat off with a line, if she strikes?" "Look at the sea, yer honour. Mr. Walter has been asking us; but there's no boat could get through that surf, not if all Ireland dipinded on it." "Where is Walter?" "Sure and I can't tell ye, yer honour. He was here a few minutes since; but what's come of him is more nor I can tell ye." "He went off with Larry Doolan," a boy, who was standing next to the fisherman, shouted.