One season Michael and his wife remained in the fishing-hut, a few weeks later than usual, on account of the fineness of the weather, and there being no signs of the floods. However, on the day before that fixed for their departure, a violent storm suddenly arose, and it was evident that the cabins were in danger of being swept away, either by the strong gale which blew from the sea, or by the water. Terrified by the prospect, the two or three fishermen who had been their companions hurried off, even in the midst of the storm, hoping to reach a place of safety, before the floods overtook them; and Michael and Margaret were preparing to follow their example, when they were startled by hearing the firing of guns as from a ship in distress. The fisherman and his wife looked at each other in deep concern, but neither spake. What could they do to assist the unhappy mariners, and the delay of one hour might be death to themselves. ‘Shall we go Margaret?’ Michael at length broke the silence by saying. ‘Can we help those poor creatures?’ she asked. ‘We cannot do anything to save the ship,’ he replied, ‘but we may perhaps be of some service should any of the people be thrown upon the strand.’ ‘Then we will stop awhile, and trust to God’s protecting care,’ she nobly rejoined; and as she spoke, she laid down the little bundle of clothes which she had hastily put together, intending to carry with them. Michael now ran to the front window of the cottage, with the idea of getting a view of the vessel in distress, but he only reached the spot in time to see her go down. The wind had driven her with violence against a rock, which had made a large opening in her keel, through which the water rushed so fast, that all attempts to check it proved vain, and she sunk almost instantly to the bottom. ‘All are lost!’ exclaimed Margaret, who had followed her husband, and was now standing behind him with her hands clasped together, and her eyes raised toward heaven in an attitude of prayer. ‘Nay, dear Madgy, it is possible that some poor creature may be drifted on the shore,’ cried Michael; ‘I will at all events go and see.’ Margaret’s heart quailed with fear, lest her husband’s life should fall a sacrifice to his humanity; but she could not oppose his generous resolve, so she suffered him to go without a word of remonstrance. As soon as he left the door, she fell on her knees and prayed that he might be protected in his perilous enterprise. She arose in a more composed state of mind, and then sat down to await her husband’s return. Her patience was not long tried, he came in shortly after, bearing in his arms a wicker-basket bound up in a sheet of oil-cloth. The poor woman’s first words were an exclamation of thankfulness for his safe return; she next eagerly inquired what he had brought with him. ‘I have brought thee a child, Madgy, what say you to that?’ cried the fisherman looking at her with a smile. [Illustration] ‘A child!’ she repeated.