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"I dursen't kiss ye, Nell, for I'm all wet; but I hadn't one moment to change. Bin out all night i' the lifeboat an' saved over thirty souls. The Brentley boat's done as much. I'm ashamed, sir," he added, turning to the clergyman, "for comin' here like this; but I couldn't help it. I hope there's nothin' in Scriptur' agin' a man bein' spliced in wet toggery?"
"Yankee as Yankee. One of the girls in Brentley House gave the spread." "But she didn't provide the snakey-noodles," put in Judith. "What's that girl's name who talks through her nose?" "Miss Windsor." "Oh!" "Coming to think of it, I believe she said they had been sent to her from an aunt in the South," went on Madeleine. "So you see, Molly, nobody has been poaching on your preserves."
On the pier-head at Greyton their signals had indeed been observed, but while the Brentley boat, owing to its position, could run down to the wreck with all sail set, it was impossible for that of Greyton to reach it, except by pulling slowly against wind and tide. The instant that Bob Massey saw the flare of the first tar-barrel he had called out his men.
A few minutes more and the familiar blue and white boat of mercy leaped out of darkness into the midst of the foaming waters like a living creature. It was the boat from the neighbouring port of Brentley. Either the storm-drift had not been so thick in that direction as in the neighbourhood of Greyton, or the Brentley men had kept a better look-out. She had run down to the wreck under sail.
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