It passed them close--the horses fetlock-deep in sand, with heads down and heaving, smoking shoulders; the coast-guardsmen with keen strong faces like heroes'-- and the boy longed to copy his father and send a cheer after them as they went galloping by.

But something rose in his throat.
He ran after the carriage, and reached the shore just as the first rocket shot singing out towards the wreck.

By this time at least a hundred miners had gathered, and between their legs he caught a glimpse of two figures stretched at length on the wet sand.

He had never looked on a dead body before.

The faces of these were hidden by the crowd; and he hung about the fringe of it dreading, and yet courting, a sight of them.
The first rocket was swept down to leeward of the wreck.