Henry Seton Merriman

“ Then he turned and searched the shore towards Yport.
“There is one,” he cried, “half in, half out, as I said. We shall cheat the crabs at all events, my father.”
And clambering down, he stumbled on with a reckless haste that contrasted strangely with his speech. For, whatever our words may be, a human life must ever command respect. Any may (as some have done) die laughing, but his last sight must necessarily be of grave faces.
“This one is not dead,” said the priest, when they had turned the man over and dragged him to dry land. Belfort cut away the life-belt, examining it as he did so. ”

“ And any who penetrate to Yport to-day will probably see in the sunlight on the sea-wall a cheery little curé, who taps his snuff-box, while he exchanges jokes with the idlers there. Yport has slowly crept into the ken of the traveller, and every summer sees English tourists pass that way. They are not popular with the rough natives, who, after all, are of the same ancestry as ourselves; but the little curé is quick and kind with information or assistance to all who seek it. When the English tongue is spoken he draws near and listens—snuff-box in hand ”

“ He looked up, meeting the priest's eyes, and, remembering his words spoken under the lee of the wall of the Hotel de la Plage, he laughed as a fencer may laugh who has been touched beyond doubt by a skilful adversary.
“He is a small-made man and light enough to carry—some town mouse this, my father—who has never had a wet jacket before—see his face how white it is, and his little arms and hands. We can carry him, turn and turn about, and shall reach the sea-wall before the tide is up, provided we find no more.” ”

“ The Mother Senneville was a great woman, six feet high, with the carriage of a Grenadier, the calm eye of some ruminating animal, the soft, deep voice, and perhaps the soft heart, of a giant.
“Already!” she said simply, as she held the door back for them to pass in. “I thought there would likely be some this morning without the money in their pockets.”
“This one will not call too loud for his coffee,” replied Belfort, with a cynicism specially assumed for the benefit of the curé. ”

“ In half an hour the day would come, but in seventy minutes the breakers must beat against the sheer cliff.
“None has reached the shore alive and with his senses,” said Belfort, looking out to sea. “He would have seen our lights and come to us, or called if he had broken limbs. It is useless to search the shore too closely. We shall find them here at the edge, half in, half out, especially those with life belts, such as we find any winter morning after bad weather.” ”

“ And there was in his heart that ever-abiding wonder that a woman may thus be a companion to a man, sharing his thoughts, nay, divining them before he had shaped them in his own mind. It was all very wonderful and new to this little priest, who had walked, as it were, on one side of the street of life since boyhood without a thought of crossing the road. ”

“ The priest was dressed, and now pulled on a great oilskin coat. There are men who seem compact in mind and body, impressing their fellows with a sense of that restfulness which comes of assured strength. This little priest was one of these, and the mental impress that he left upon all who came in contact with him was to the effect that there is nothing in a human life that need appal, no sorrow beyond the reach of consolation—no temptation too strong to be resisted. ”

“ The man followed him to a little bare room, of which the walls were decorated by two cheap sacred prints and a crucifix, such as may be bought for ten sous at any fair on the coast.
“Never mind your hat,” said the priest, seeing the man's fingers at the strings of his sou'wester. “Give me my great boots from the cupboard. A wreck is it? The summer storms are always the worst. Is it a boat?”
“Who knows?” replied the man. “It is my wife who looked from the window an hour ago, and saw a light at sea two points to the east of north—a red light and then a green and then the masthead light.” ”

“ And in an obscure English watering-place there lives a queer little old maid—churchy and prim—who does charitable work, gives her opinion very freely concerning the administration of matters parochial, thinks the vicar very self-indulgent and idle—and in her own heart has the abiding conviction that there are none on earth like the Roman clergy. ”

“ Albert Robinson, steamship Ocean Waif, Southampton.
“That will suffice,” said Belfort. “I take this and leave the rest to you and Mother Senneville.”
“Send the doctor from Fécamp,” said the woman—“the new one in the Rue du Bac. It is the young ones that work best for nothing, and here is no payment for any of us.”
“Not now,” said the priest.
“Ah!” cried Belfort, tossing off the brandy, which the Mother Senneville had poured out for him. “You—you expect so much in the Hereafter, Mr. the Curé.” ”

“ She glanced round the room with a hunted look in her eyes.
“Oh,” she said, “I cannot keep it up any longer. You must have guessed—you who are so quick—that my brother is a great criminal. He has ruined thousands of people. ”