Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, No. 429. Various

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      'As I expected!' he cried in a loud ringing voice. 'Fire!—shoot every one of the villains!'

      A volley of small arms, within pistol-shot of the body of wreckers, was the unexpected greeting which these men received. A loud and terrible yell shewed the way in which the discharge had told. One-half of the pillagers fell on the stony beach, the other half fled.

      Among those who remained was Madeleine. She was kneeling by her father, who had received several shots, and lay on the ground in agony.

      'You were right, girl,' he groaned; 'I see it now, when it is too late, and I feel I have deserved it.'

      'Better,' sobbed Madeleine, 'better be here, than have imbrued your hands in the blood of one of those miraculously-delivered sailors.'

      'Say you so, woman?' said a loud voice near her. 'Then you are not one of the gang. I knew them of old, as well as their infernal cut-throat gorge, and pulled straight for it, but quite prepared to give them a warm reception.'

      Madeleine looked up. She saw around her more than fifty men, three women, and some children. She shuddered again at the thought of the awful massacre which would have occurred but for the sailor's prudence.

      'My good girl,' continued the man, 'we are cold, wet, and hungry; can you shew us to some shelter?'

      'Yes; but do you bid some of your men carry my father, who, I fear, is dying.'

      'It is no more than he merits,' replied the man; 'but for your sake I will have him taken care of.'

      'It is what I merit,' said Pierre, in a strange and loud tone; 'but not from your hands, Jacques.'

      'Merciful God!' cried the sailor, 'whose voice is that?'

      'You will soon know; but do as your sister bids you, and then we can talk more at ease.'

      Madeleine cast herself sobbing into her brother's arms, who, gently disengaging her, had a litter prepared for his father, and then, guided by Madeleine, the procession advanced on its way. An armed party marched at the head, and in a quarter of an hour the village of Montreaux was reached. It was entirely deserted. There were fires in the houses, and lamps lit, and even suppers prepared, but not a living thing. Even the children and old women on hearing the discharge of musketry, had fled to a cave where they sometimes took shelter when the coast-guard was sent in search of them.