"Amen to that! but they must be careful what they are about, for with the wind dead on shore, if they knock away each other's spars, they are both more than likely to drift on Norton Sands, and if they do, the Lord have mercy on them," said Adam, solemnly. "Whichever gets the victory, they will be in a bad way, as I fear, after all, it will be a dirty night. The wind has shifted three points to the eastward since I left home, and it's blowing twice as hard as it did ten minutes ago. We may as well run the Nancy up to her moorings, lads."

As one of the men was hurrying off to carry this order to the rest, a heavier blast than before came across the ocean. It had the effect of rending the veil of mist in two, and the rain ceasing, the keen eyes of the fishermen distinguished in the offing two ships running towards the land, the one a short distance ahead of the other, which was firing at her from her bow chasers, the leading and smaller vessel returning the fire with her after guns, and apparently determined either to gain a sheltering harbour or to run on shore rather than be taken. The moment that revealed her to the spectators showed those on board how near she was to the shore, though evidently they were not aware of the still nearer danger of the treacherous sandbank. An exclamation of dismay and pity escaped those who were looking at her.

"If she had been half a mile to the nor'ard she might have stood through Norton Gut and been safe," observed Halliburt; "but if she is a stranger there is little chance of her hauling off in time to escape the sands."

While he was speaking, the sternmost ship was seen to come to the wind; her yards were braced up, and now, apparently aware of her danger, she endeavoured to stand off the land before the rising gale should render the undertaking impossible. The hard-pressed chase directly afterwards attempted to follow her example. She was already on a wind when again the mist closed over the ocean, and she was hidden from sight.

"We will keep the Nancy where she is," said Halliburt; "we don't know what may happen. If yonder ship drives on the sands-and she has but a poor chance of keeping off them, I fear-we cannot let her people perish without trying to save them; and though it may be a hard job to get alongside the wreck, yet some of the poor fellows may be drifted away from her on rafts or spars, and we may be able to pick them up. Whatever happens, we must do our best."

"Aye, aye, Adam," answered several of his hardy crew, who stood around him; "where you think fit to go we are ready to go too."

The party had not long to wait before their worst apprehensions were realised. The dull report of a gun, which their practised ears told them came from Norton Sands, was heard; in another minute the sound of a second gun boomed over the waters; a third followed even before the same interval had elapsed. That the ship had struck and was in dire distress there could be no doubt, but when they gazed at the dark, heaving waves which rolled in crested with foam, and just discernible in the fast waning twilight, and felt the fierce blast against which even they could scarcely stand upright on the slippery pier, hardy and bold as they were, they

hapless crew. Long before they could reach the wreck darkness would be resting on the troubled ocean; they doubted, indeed, whether they could force their boat out in the teeth of the fierce gale. Adam took a turn on the pier. His heart was greatly troubled. He had never failed, if a boat could live, to be among the first to dash out to the rescue of his fellow-creatures when a ship had been cast on those treacherous sandbanks. The hazard was great. He knew that with the strength of his crew exhausted the boat might be hurled back amid the breakers, to be dashed on the shore; or, should they even succeed in reaching the neighbourhood of the wreck, where the greatest danger was to be encountered, they might fail in getting near enough to save any of the people.

Every moment of delay increased the risk which must be run.

"Lads, we will try and do it," he said at length; "maybe she has struck on the lowest part of the bank, and we shall be able to cross it at the top of high water. Come along, we will talk no more about it, but try and do what we have got to do."

Just at that instant the words, uttered in a shrill, loud tone, were heard:

"Foolish men, have you a mind to drown yourselves in the deep salt sea! Stay, I charge you, or take the consequence."

The voice seemed to come out of the darkness, for no one was seen. The men looked round over their shoulders. Directly afterwards a tall thin figure, habited in grey from head to foot, emerged from the gloom. Those who beheld it might have been excused if they supposed it rather a phantom than a being of the earth, so shadowy did it appear in the thick mist.

"The spirit of the air forbids your going, and I, his messenger, warn you that you seek destruction if you disobey him."

The men gathered closer to each other as the figure approached. It was now seen to be that of a tall, gaunt woman. Her loose cloak and the long grey hair which hung over her shoulders blew out in the wind, giving her face a wild and weird look, for she wore no covering to restrain her locks, with the exception of a mass of dry dark seaweed, formed in the shape of a crown, twisted round the top of her head.

"I have seen the ship you are about to visit. I knew what her fate would be even yesternight when she was floating proudly on the ocean; she was doomed to destruction, and so will be all those who venture on board her. If you go out to her, I tell you that none of you will return. I warn you, Adam Halliburt, and I warn you all! Go not out to her, she is doomed! she is doomed! she is doomed!"

As the woman uttered these words she disappeared in the darkness. The men stood irresolute. "What, lads, are you to be frightened at what 'Sal of the Salt Sea' says, or 'Silly Sally,' as some of you call her?" exclaimed Adam. "Let us put our trust in God, he will take care of us, if it's his good pleasure. It's our duty to try and help our fellow-creatures. Do you think an old mad woman knows more than He who rules the waves, or that anything she can say in her folly will prevent him. from watching over us and bringing us back in safety?"

Adam's appeal had its due effect. Even the most

superstitious were ashamed of refusing to accompany him. When he sprang on board the boat his crew willingly followed. He would have sent back his second boy Sam, but the lad earnestly entreated to be taken.

"If you go, father, why should I stop behind? Jacob will look after mother, and I would rather share whatever may happen to you," he said.

Adam and his men were soon on board the boat: they most of them had shares in her, and thus they risked their property as well as their lives. The oars were got out, and the men, fixing themselves firmly in their seats, prepared for the task before

them.

Shoving off from the shore, Adam took the helm. The men pulled away right lustily, and emerging from the harbour, in another minute they were breasting the heaving foam-crested billows in the teeth of the gale. Sometimes, when a stronger blast than usual swept over the water, they appeared, instead of making headway, to be drifting back towards the dimly-seen shore astern. Now, again exerting all their strength, they once more made progress in the direction of the wreck.

All this time the minute guns had been heard, showing that the ship still held together, and that help, if it came, would not be useless. The sound encouraged Adam and his crew to persevere. The reports, however, now came at longer intervals than at first from each other. Several minutes at length elapsed, and no report was heard. Adam listenednot another came. The crew of the Nancy, however, persevered, but even Adam, as he observed the slow progress they had made, became convinced that their efforts would prove of no avail.

The gale continued to increase, the foaming seas leaped and roared around them more wildly than before. Even to return would now be an operation of danger, but Adam with sorrow saw that it must be attempted. For an hour or more no headway had been made. He waited for a lull, then giving the word, the boat was rapidly pulled round, and surrounded by hissing masses of foam, she rapidly shot back within the shelter of the harbour. The sinews of her crew were too well strung to feel much fatigue under ordinary circumstances, but the strongest had to acknowledge that they could not have pulled much longer.

"We must not give it up, though, lads," said Adam. "I am sure no beachmen will be able to launch their boats to-night along the coast. If the wind goes down ever so little, we must try it again; you will not think of deserting the poor people if there is a chance of saving them, I know that."

His crew responded to his appeal, and agreed to wait for the chance of being able to get off later in the night.

Looking towards the landing place, the tall figure of Sal of the Salt Sea was seen standing on the edge of the pier gazing down upon them.

"Foolish men! you have had your toil for nought, yet it is well for you that you could not reach the doomed ship. I warned you, and you disregarded me. I commanded the winds and waves to stop your progress; they listened to my orders and obeyed me. You will not another time venture to disregard my warnings. Now go to your homes, and be thankful that I did not think fit to punish you for your folly. Again I warn you that yonder ship is doomed! is

doomed! is doomed!"

While the old woman was uttering these words in the same harsh, loud tones as before, Adam and his crew were making their way to the landing-place. Before they reached it, however, the strange being had disappeared in the darkness, though her voice could be heard as she took her way apparently towards the cliffs.

66

Again, lads, I say, don't let what you have heard from the poor mad woman trouble you," exclaimed Adam. "Come to my cottage, and we will have a bite of supper, and wait till we have the chance of getting off again."

Dame Halliburt, expecting them, had prepared supper. The sanded floors and rough chairs and stools which formed the furniture of her room, were not to be injured by their dripping garments. During the meal Adam, or one of the men, went out more than once to judge if there was likely to be a change. Still the gale blew as fiercely as ever.

Some threw themselves down on the floor to rest, while Adam, filling his pipe, sat in his arm-chair by the fire, still resolved as at first to persevere.

CHAPTER II.-AT THE WRECK.

THUS the greater part of the night passed by. Towards dawn Adam started up. The howling of the wind in the chimney and the rattling sound of the windows which looked towards the sea decreased.

"Lads!" he shouted, "the gale is breaking, we may yet be in time to save life, and maybe to get salvage too from the wreck. We will be off at once.

The crew required no second summons. Telling his dame to keep up her spirits, and that he should soon be back, he led the way to the pier.

Some of the men, hardy fellows as they were, looked round nervously, expecting the appearance of Sal of the Salt Sea. She did not return, however, and they were soon on board. The poor creature, probably not supposing that they would again venture out, had not thought of being on the watch for them.

Once more the Nancy, propelled by the strong arms of her hardy crew, was making her way towards Norton Sands. It was still dark as before, but the wind had gone down considerably, and the task, though such as none but beachmen would have attempted, seemed less hopeless. After rowing for some time amidst the foaming seas, Adam stood firmly up and endeavoured to make out the ship. At length he discovered a dark object rising above the white seething waters: it was the wreck. Two of her masts were still standing. She was so placed near the tail of the bank, where the water was deepest, that he hoped to be able to approach to leeward, and thus more easily to board her if neces

why does she not run for Hurlston, where she could most quickly land them?"

As these thoughts passed through his mind, the lugger, which a keen eye like his alone could have discerned, disappeared in the darkness.

"I wonder if that can be Miles Gaffin's craft," he thought; "no one, unless well acquainted with the coast, would venture in among these sandbanks in this thick weather; she is more likely to be knocking about here than any other vessel that I know of. She has been after her usual tricks, I doubt not." Adam, however, did not utter his thoughts aloud. Indeed, unless he had spoken at the top of his voice he could not have been heard even by the man nearest him, while all his attention was required in steering the boat.

The crew had still some distance to pull, and their progress against the heavy seas was but slow. At length dawn began to break, and the wreck rose clearly before them. She was a large ship. The foremast had gone by the board, but the main and mizzen-masts, though the topmasts had been carried away, were still standing.

With cool daring they pulled under her stern. To their surprise, no one hailed them--not a living soul did they see on the deck.

As a sea which swept round her lifted the boat, Adam, followed by his son Ben and another man, sprang on board. A sad spectacle met their sight. The sea had made a clean sweep over the fore part of the ship, carrying away the topgallant, forecastle, and bulwarks, and, indeed, everything which had offered it resistance, but the foremast still hung by the rigging, in which were entangled the bodies of three or four men who had either been crushed as it fell or drowned by the waves washing over them. The long-boat on the booms had also been washed away-indeed, not a boat remained. The guns, too, of which, though evidently a merchantman, she had apparently carried several, had broken adrift and been carried overboard, with the exception of the aftermost one, which lay overturned, and now held fast a human being, and, as her dress proved her to be, a woman. The complexion of the poor creature was dark, and the costume she wore showed Adam that she was from the far-off East. Ben lifted her hand; it fell on the deck as he let it go; it was evident that no help could be of use to her. Her distorted countenance exhibited the agonies she must have suffered.

"She must have been holding on to the gun," observed Adam, "when it capsized; and if I read the tale aright, she was standing there calling to those in the boats to come back for her as they were shoving off. If the boats had not been lowered, we should have seen some of the wreck of them hanging to the davits. See, the falls are gone on both

sides."

Having made a rapid survey of the deck, Adam looked seaward.

"We have no time to lose," he said, "for the sky looks dirty to windward, and we shall have the gale down on us again before long, I suspect. We must first, though, make a search below, for maybe some of the people have taken shelter there. I fear, how ever, the greater number must have been washed away, or attempted to get off in the boats."

Adam, leading the party, hurried below.

The water was already up to the cabin deck, and the violent rocking of the ship told them that it

would be dangerous to spend much time in the search. No one was to be found.

"Let us have the skylight off, Tom, to see our way," said Ben.

Tom sprang on deck and soon forced it off, and the pale morning light streamed down below. Everything in the main cabin was in confusion.

"This shows that the people must have got away in the boats, and have carried off whatever they could lay hands on, unless some one else has visited the wreck since then," remarked Adam; and he then told Ben of his having observed the lugger in the neighbourhood of the wreck.

She looks to me like a foreign-built ship, although her fittings below are in the English fashion," he observed, examining the cabins as far as the dim twilight which made its way through the open hatch would allow.

"As we came under her stern I saw no name on it; I cannot make out what she can be."

Two

The lockers in the captain's state cabin were open, and none of his instruments were to be seen. or three of the other side cabins had apparently been searched in a hurry for valuables. The doors of the aftermost ones were, however, still closed. The violent heaving and the crashing sounds which reached their ears, showing how much the ship was suffering from the rude blows of the seas, made Adame unwilling to prolong the search. He and his companions secured such articles as appeared most worth saving.

"Let us look into the cabin before we go," exclaimed Ben, opening the door of one which seemed the largest. As he did so a cry was heard, and a child's voice asked, "Who's there?" He and Adam sprang in.

Many people have a strong dislike to "statistics," especially in the shape of figures; but in the case of the census reports, some of the curiosities of which it is our purpose to point out in these papers, the record comes to us full of facts as well as figures. Every page has its tale to tell-here, of the conversion of land hitherto unproductive into the centre of a thriving industry, either by the cultivation of some new product, or by the erection of mills for the development of some new or reviving trade; there, of death and disease thinning the population of a parish, until it becomes almost as much forsaken as a village through which the invading army has but just passed. Thus to those who read between the

⚫ Census of England and Wales, 1871. Population Tables, Vols, I. and II. Sold by the Queen's Printers.

lines the dead integers become a living record-a history of the age in which we live-an index of progress or of retrogression-a guide to the causes of prosperity, while in not a few cases they furnish a clue to what at first sight seems an inexplicable calamity. Nor does the tale end here, for we find scattered through the folios many a strange incident, many a passing note of men and their ways well worthy of attention, and the gathering up of which will at any rate serve to pass pleasantly a leisure hour, if it tends to no higher end.

And first it may not be without interest to say a word on the manner in which the census was taken. To the ordinary householder who received a few days before the census night his schedule or paper of questions, the correct answering of which tested all his powers of dealing with feminine diplomatists, the matter perhaps seemed as simple as the collection of taxes or any other duty which is performed by our public servants. But in reality the case was very different. The "enumerator," as the person who issues and collects the forms is termed, has no light duty to perform. He is indeed required by the authorities to be a man of many good points. He must be intelligent, trustworthy, and active; he must write well, and have some knowledge of arithmetic; he must not be infirm, nor of such weak health as to render him unable to undergo the requisite exertion; he should not be younger than eighteen, nor older than sixty-five; he must be temperate, orderly, and respectable, and be such a person as is likely to conduct himself with strict propriety and civility in the discharge of his duties; he must make himself well acquainted with the district and the local boundaries within which he will be required to act, and it will be a further recommendation if his occupation has been such as to add to his fitness for the office. In such words as these requiring on the part of a candidate no mean opinion of his own character and ability-were described the qualifications of the gentlemen whose services were sought for the census-taking, while as a hint as to the class of men most fit for the work it was added that any clergyman or other minister of religion, or any professional man taking a special interest in the people of the place, might be invited to act as an enumerator. This postscript would seem to have been very needful, for it is difficult to imagine any man not actuated by some other motives than a mere wish for employment undertaking a duty which occupied several days, and involved serious responsibility, but which carried with it no higher remuneration than a retainer of a guinea-in 1861 it was a sovereign and a fee of half-a-crown for every 200 persons enumerated over the first 400; and it speaks well for the public spirit of the people that men of reputation and ability were found to undertake the task on these terms. The necessary authority with which each enumerator was for the time being invested was derived from a special Act of Parliament, giving the Secretary of State for the Home Department the superintendence of the work, and imposing penalties on persons neglecting or refusing to give information or making false returns. Practically, however, the work was left in the hands of the officials of the Registrar-General of Births, Deaths, and Marriages, by whom it had been performed at the three previous periods, 1841, 1851, 1861, and they in turn enrolled an army of volunteers whose "drill" was in itself a matter requiring

some tact and energy. No less than 35,430 persons were employed on this delicate mission, a mission in some respects of a character to which the Englishman who stands firm to the tradition that his home is his castle has a natural objection, while it required throughout considerable ingenuity to avoid mistakes and imposition. At length, however, the number was complete, and in the appointed time the census was taken.

But it must not be supposed that it was taken everywhere without difficulty. Judging from the recorded cases in which a definite opposition was made to the due performance of the enumerator's task, his life in some instances must have been the reverse of pleasant for the week of his engagement, although occasionally the episodes were more amusing than irritating. In one country place, a spinster, "of rather an advanced age,' and very wealthy, fastened up her doors and windows, forbade the official to enter the house, and said that a fine of £20 would not induce her to give him the required particulars. Ultimately, however, in response to a letter from the Registrar-General, which must have been couched surely in very different language to the stilted official dialect of the Government Office, this strange specimen of womankind was soothed into a better humour, and sent in her schedule privately. Whether she was anticipating an offer of marriage from some local magnate, and feared that through the collusion of the enumerator he might discover her age and retract, we are not told. But simple obstinacy was not the only obstacle with which the enumerators had to contend. In some cases they met with persons of the Topsy class, who, although they did not reply in so many words "I spects I growed," knew so little about themselves or their belongings that they were really unable to give the required information. One case of this sort was brought before the Devon county magistrates, by whom a middle-aged man was fined £1 for refusing to make out a census-paper for himself and his child. He declared that he neither knew his own name nor his place of birth, and he would not perjure himself by making a false entry. At St. Austell, also, a gentleman was summoned for refusing to allow the census-paper to be taken into his house. Then, again, in this as in everything else, the religious scruple, the result of a conscientious objection to the proceeding, cropped up in certain places. In one district a gentleman of landed property declared he would pay a fine of any amount, indeed would rather forfeit his life than commit the offence for which David suffered, as recorded in the Old Testament. Here the Registrar-General's clemency was appealed to, and the particulars were obtained without interfering with the old man's scruples. Only one case is mentioned in which an enumerator actually suffered bodily violence in the discharge of his duty, and then he appealed to the law by taking out a summons for assault, on which the magistrate inflicted a fine. There were other instances, few and far between, however, in which the enumerators prosecuted persons for non-compliance with the Act of Parliament, but no prosecution was instituted directly by the Registrar-General, a fact which is in itself a proof that the days have gone by when either ignorance or superstition impose any serious obstacle to the fulfilment of this very necessary duty. Taken as a whole, then, the people behaved well under what were to some, and especially