"Will the gentleman see the corpses?" asked Brown; "we have fourteen already;"--and he led the way to where, along the shingle at high-water mark, lay a ghastly row, some fearfully bruised and mutilated, cramped together by the death-agony; others with the peaceful smile which showed that they had sunk to sleep in that strange water-death, amid a wilderness of pleasant dreams. Strong men lay there, little children, women, whom the sailors' wives had covered decently with cloaks and shawls; and at their heads stood Grace Harvey, motionless, with folded hands, gazing into the dead faces with her great solemn eyes. Her mother and Captain Willis stood by, watching her with a sort of superstitions awe. She took no notice either of Thurnall or of the Lieutenant, as the doctor identified the bodies one by one, without a remark which indicated any human emotion. "A very sensible man, Willis," said the Lieutenant apart, as Tom knelt awhile to examine the crushed features of a sailor; and then looking up said simply,-- "James Macgillivray, second mate. Cause of death, contusions; probably by the fall of the main-mast." "A very sensible man, and has seen a deal of life, and kept his eyes open; but a terrible hard-plucked one. Talked like a book to me all the way; but, be hanged if I don't think he has a thirty-two pound shot under his ribs instead of a heart.--Doctor Thurnall, that is Miss Harvey,--the young person who saved your life last night." Tom rose, took off his hat (Frank Headley's), and made her a bow, of which an ambassador need not have been ashamed. "I am exceedingly shocked that Miss Harvey should have run so much danger for anything so worthless as my life." She looked up at him, and answered, not him, but her own thoughts. "Strange, is it not, that it was a duty to pray for all these poor things last night, and a sin to pray for them this morning?" "Grace, dear!" interposed her mother, "don't you hear the gentleman thanking you?" She started, as one awaking out of a dream, and looked into his face, blushing scarlet. "Good heavens, what a beautiful creature!" said Tom to himself, as quite a new emotion passed through him. Quite new it was, whatsoever it was; and he was aware of it. He had had his passions, his intrigues, in past years, and prided himself--few men more--on understanding women; but the expression of the face, and the strange words with which she had greeted him, added to the broad fact of her having offered her own life for his, raised in him a feeling of chivalrous awe and admiration, which no other woman had ever called up. "Madam," he said again; "I can repay you with nothing but thanks: but, to judge from your conduct last night, you are one of those people who will find reward enough in knowing that you have done a noble and heroic action."