.

.

I can't! My poor brother! I can't!" Taffy knelt beside him on the soaking turf.

"Your brother?
Had you a brother on board ?" The man bowed his face again upon the turf.

Taffy, upright on both knees, heard him sobbing like a child in the roaring darkness.
"Come," he coaxed, and putting out a hand, touched his wet hair.
"Come." They crept forward again, but still as he followed the sailor cried for his drowned brother, up the long slope to the ridge of the headland, where, with the light-house and warm cottage windows in view, all speech and hearing were drowned by stinging hail and the blown grit of the causeway.
Humility opened the door to them.
"Taffy! Where have you been ?" "There has been a wreck." "Yes, yes--the coast-guard is down by the light-house.