"I have seen it done," Trafford said; "but it was in broad daylight, when the man could see, and determine the exact instant for the leap. The boat was a very long one, so that before it dipped, it had shot far out; the man was extremely powerful, and it was, after all, a mere matter of luck."
"We do not talk of luck," the priest said, with a touch of sternness in his tone. "We will leave that. You admit it possible, because it has been done. Your man was extremely strong. This man seems to me such also. Your man had daylight to show him the tossing of the waters about him; the anxious faces peering at him; the vanishing shores, and the coming danger. This man had all his senses active and single to the work before him. The flash of white foam was enough to show him, even in the night, where he was. To that his sight was turned, for there was nothing to distract his full attention. He was leaping for life. Instinct would come to his aid. It was possible for the man you saw. I believe it was possible for this man."
Suddenly a thought struck Trafford. This priest
