e. I can't let you go
without saying it. I love you. Will you wait for me? It may be a very
long wait, although God knows I mean to try harder than I have ever
tried for anything in my life. If I live I will make something of myself
yet, with you as my inspiration. You know you said if a girl really
cared for a man she would willingly wait years for him. Do you care for
me as much as that? With you, or for you, I believe I can accomplish
anything. DO you care?

"RUSSELL BROOKS."

He put this in an envelope, sealed and addressed it, and without
stopping to put on either cap or raincoat went out in the night.

The rain was still falling, although not as heavily, but the wind was
coming in fierce squalls. He descended the path to the cove, floundering
through the wet bushes. At the foot of the hill he was surprised to find
the salt marsh a sea of water not a vestige of ground above the surface.
This was indeed a record-breaking tide, such as he had never known
before. He did not pause to reflect upon tides or such trivialities,
but, with a growl at being obliged to make the long detour, he rounded
the end of the cove and climbed up to the door of the bungalow. Under
the edge of that door he tucked the note he had written. As soon as
this was accomplished he became aware that he had expressed himself very
clumsily. He had not written as he might. A dozen brilliant thoughts
came to him. He must rewrite that note at all hazards.

So he spent five frantic minutes trying to coax that envelope from under
the door. But, in his care to push it far enough, it had dropped beyond
the sill, and he could not reach it. The thing was done for better
or for worse. Perfectly certain that it was for worse, he splashed
mournfully back to the lights. In the lantern room of the right-hand
tower he spent the remainder of the night, occasionally wandering out on
the gallery to note the weather.

The storm was dying out. The squalls were less and less frequent, and
the rain had been succeeded by a thick fog. The breakers pounded in the
dark below him, and from afar the foghorns moaned and wailed. It was a
bad night, a night during which no lightkeeper should be absent from his
post. And where was Seth?

CHAPTER XIV

"BENNIE D."

Seth's drive to Eastboro was a dismal journey. Joshua pounded along over
the wet sand or through ruts filled with water, and not once during the
trip was he ordered to "Giddap" or "Show some signs of l