“She's going fast through the water, anyway!” said one of the men. But though the speech was meant to cheer, none felt or acknowledged the encouragement. “I 'd rather than own Cro' Martin Castle Miss Mary was safe at home!” said Loony, as he drew the rough sleeve of his coat across his eyes, “for it's thicker it's getting over yonder!” “It would be a black day that anything happened her!” muttered another. “Musha! we've wives and childer,” said a third, “but she's worth a thousand of us!” And thus, in broken whispers, they spoke; not a thought save of her, not a care save for her safety. They prayed, too, fervently, and her name was in all their supplications. “She's singing to herself in her sleep,” whispered Loony. And the rough sailors hushed to hear her. Louder and louder, however, grew the storm, sheets of spray and drift falling over the boat in showers, and all her timbers quivering as she labored in the stormy sea. A sailor whispered something in Loony's ear, and he grumbled out in reply,--“Why would I wake her up?” “But I _am_ awake, Loony,” said Mary, in a low, calm voice, “and I see all our danger; but I see, too, that you are meeting it like brave men, and, better still, like good ones.” “The men was thinking we ought to bear up for Innish-more, Miss Mary,” said Loony, as though ashamed of offering on his own part such counsel. “You'll do what you think best and safest for us all, Loony.” “But you were always the captain, miss, when you were aboord!” replied he, with an effort to smile. “And so I should be now, Loony, but that my heart is too full to be as calm and resolute as I ought to be. This poor thing had not been here now, but for _me_.” And she wrapped her shawl around Joan as she spoke. “Maybe it's anxiety, perhaps fatigue, but I have not my old courage to-night!” “Faix! it will never be fear that will distress you!” said he. “If you mean for myself and my own safety, Loony, you are right. It is not for me to repine at the hour that calls me away, but I cannot bear to think how you and others, with so many dear to you, should be perilled just to serve _me!_ And poor Joan, too, at the moment when life was about to brighten for her!” She held down her head for a minute or two, and then suddenly, as it were, rallying, she cried out, “The boat is laboring too much for'ard, Loony; set the jib on her!” “To be sure, if you ordher it, Miss Mary; but she has more sail now than she can carry.” “Set the jib, Loony. I know the craft well; she 'll ride the waves all the lighter for it. If it were but daylight, I almost think I 'd enjoy this. We 've been out in as bad before.” Loony shook his head as he went forward to bend the additional sail. “You see she won't bear it, miss,” cried he, as the boat plunged fearfully into the trough of the sea.