light? No. They know where they are going. Besides, they can see the
light of the campfire. The wind is increasing, too."

Harriet dozed. She awakened half an hour later and gazed sleepily out
to sea. The same lights were there, though they now appeared to be
much nearer. All of a sudden they blinked out and were seen no more.

The girl sat up, rubbing her eyes wonderingly.

"Could they have sunk? No, of course not. How silly of me! The boat
has turned about, and the lights are not visible from behind." But she
did not lie down at once. Instead, she rested her chin in the palms of
her hands and gazed dreamily out over the water. A fresh, salty breeze
was now blowing in. She could hear the flap, flap of the canvas of
the tents off in the camp, a thin veil of mist was obscuring the
stars, the pound of the surf was growing louder and the swish of the
water on the beach more surly.

All at once what looked to her to be a huge cloud suddenly loomed
close at hand, then began moving along the beach.

"Mercy! what is it?" exclaimed the girl under her breath. She crept
from beneath the canvas and ran down to the beach. "It's a ship! How
close to the shore they are running, and they have no lights out."

Harriet watched the vessel for some moments. She saw it swing around a
long, narrow point of land a short distance to the south of the camp
and boldly enter a bay. She was unable to make out with any
distinctness what was being done there, but she heard the creak of the
boom as it swung over and the rattle of the tackle as the sails came
down, though unable to interpret these sounds. Soon there came a sharp
whistle from human lips, answered by a similar whistle from the shore,
then all was quiet.

Harriet Burrell crept back under the canvas, wondering vaguely what
could be the meaning of this. She was too sleepy to think much about
it and soon dropped into a sound sleep, from which she was destined to
be rudely awakened.

CHAPTER VII

A SUDDEN STORM

The canvas that covered the sleeping Meadow-Brook Girls was suddenly
lifted from them, then whipped back with a force that nearly knocked
the breath out of some of them.

A chorus of yells greeted the giant slap of the canvas, and a bevy of
girls rolled and scrambled out of the way.

"Hold it down, or we shall lose it," cried Harriet, her voice barely
heard in the roar of the wind. But no one of the party seemed inclined
to act as an anchor for the canvas, whi