an looked away. Hard by the boat where there had been but a waste
of sea rose a green island. A stretch of pleasant meadow met his eyes.
It was so close to him that if he had leaned over the gunwale of the
boat he could have laid his hand on the lush grass. Dumbly he wondered
where it had been before, how he had come upon it so suddenly, why he
had not seen it hours ago.

In front of him were hundreds of people, men, women, and children, plain
people in strange simple garb, the like of which he had never seen. In
front of these people and with their backs toward him stood a little
group of men, in the center a figure in white garments. A lad offered
something in a basket.

The man watched, amazed, awe-stricken, yet with a strange peace in his
soul. He made no movement to gain the shore. He only looked and looked.
The white-robed figure bent over the basket. He lifted from it a crude
rough loaf of bread. He raised his eyes to heaven, his lips moved. He
broke the bread and gave it.

As the sailor watched the island disappeared as suddenly as it had come.
The scene changed. Now he looked into a low room, dimly lighted with
strange lamps. Through an open window he saw the stars. The few men that
had stood about the man in the grassy meadow were alone with him in that
upper chamber reclining about a table. The man lifted from the board a
cup of silver. He blessed it and gave it. The fragrance of wine came to
the watcher.

He rubbed his eyes and looked again and before him spread the smooth
unbroken surface of the monotonous sea. The woman's voice smote his ear
again, higher, shriller, with more painful entreaty.

"A priest--for the love of God--the sacrament," she whispered.

The man tore open the last canvas bread-bag. It was tough material but
it yielded to his insistence. In the corner there was a single tiny
crumb they had overlooked. He lifted it gently with his great hand. He
held it up in the air a moment striving to think. He was an English
sailor and in his boyhood had bee

William Babington Maxwell (18661938) was a British novelist. He was a son of novelist Mary Elizabeth Braddon. Though nearly 50 years old at the outbreak of the First World War, he was accepted as a lieutenant in the Royal Fusiliers and served in France until 1917.

Cyrus Townsend Brady (December 20, 1861 January 24, 1920) was a journalist, historian and adventure writer. His most well-known work is Indian Fights and Fighters. He was born in Allegheny, Pennsylvania, and graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy in 1883. He was also a deacon in the Episcopal church. His first wife was Clarissa Guthrie, who died in 1890. His second wife was Mary Barrett.

Rebecca Sophia Clarke (1833-1906), also known as Sophie May, was an American author of childrens fiction. Using her nieces and nephews as inspiration, she wrote realistic stories about children. She wrote 45 books between 1860 and 1903. The most popular being the Little Prudy books. She lived most of her life in her native town of Norridgewock, Maine, where she lived out her life with her sister, who was also a successful author.