I hurried out upon the road, and there, close under our windows, were the two boats we had seen in the morning, landing their crews on the little beach. The second boat was full of weather-beaten men, in all kinds of attire, some in blue jerseys, some in red shirts, some in ragged coats. One man, who looked their superior, was dressed in blue from head to foot. “What’s the matter?” I asked the officer of the coast-guard, a sedate, thoughtful-looking man. “Vessel foundered, sir,” he answered. “Sprung a leak on Sunday morning. She was laden with iron, and in a heavy ground swell it shifted and knocked a hole in her. The poor fellows are worn out with the pump and rowing, upon little or nothing to eat.” They were trooping past us by this time, looking rather dismal, though not by any means abject. “What are you going to do with them now?” “They’ll be taken in by the people. We’ll get up a little subscription for them, but they all belong to the society the sailors have for sending the shipwrecked to their homes, or where they want to go.” “Well, here’s something to help,” I said. “Thank you, sir. They’ll be very glad of it.” “And if there’s anything wanted that I can do for them, you must let me know.” “I will, sir. But I don’t think there will be any occasion to trouble you. You are our new clergyman, I believe.” “Not exactly that. Only for a little while, till my friend Mr. Shepherd is able to come back to you.” “We don’t want to lose Mr. Shepherd, sir. He’s what they call high in these parts, but he’s a great favourite with all the poor people, because you see he understands them as if he was of the same flesh and blood with themselves--as, for that matter, I suppose we all are.” “If we weren’t there would be nothing to say at all. Will any of these men be at church to-morrow, do you suppose? I am afraid sailors are not much in the way of going to church?” “I am afraid not. You see they are all anxious to get home. Most likely they’ll be all travelling to-morrow. It’s a pity. It would be a good chance for saying something to them that they might think of again. But I often think that, perhaps--it’s only my own fancy, and I don’t set it up for anything--that sailors won’t be judged exactly like other people. They’re so knocked about, you see, sir.”