Lessingham agreed. "I shouldn't worry
about the first, but this last little episode takes some explaining."

"If anything further happens this evening, I think I shall go mad,"
Philippa sighed.

"And something is going to happen," Lessingham declared, rising to his
feet. "Did you hear that?"

Above even the roar of the wind they heard the brazen report of a gun
from almost underneath the window. The room was suddenly lightened by a
single vivid flash.

"A mortar!" Lessingham exclaimed. "And that was a rocket, unless I'm
mistaken."

"The signal for the lifeboat!" Philippa announced. "I wonder if we can
see anything."

She hastened towards the window, but paused at the abrupt opening of the
door. Nora burst in, followed more sedately by Helen.

"Mummy, there's a wreck!" the former cried in excitement. "I heard
something an hour ago, and I got up, and I've been sitting by the
window, watching. I saw the lifeboat go out, and they're signalling now
for the other one."

"It's quite true, Philippa," Helen declared. "We're going to try and
fight our way down to the beach."

"I'll go, too," Lessingham decided. "Perhaps I may be of use."

"We'll all go," Philippa agreed. "Wait while I get my things on. What
is it, Mills?" she added, as the door opened and the latter presented
himself.

"There is a trawler on the rocks just off the breakwater, your
ladyship," he announced. "They have just sent up from the beach to know
if we can take some of the crew in. They are landing them as well as
they can on the line."

"Of course we can," was the prompt reply. "Tell them to send as many as
they want to. We will find room for them, somehow. I'll go upstairs and
see about the fires. You'll all come back?" she added, turning around.

"We will all come back," Lessingham promised.

They fought their way down to the beach. At first the storm completely
deafened all sound. The lanterns, waved here and there by unseen hands,
seemed part of some ghostly tableau, of which the only background was
the raging of the storm. Then suddenly, with a startling hiss, another
rocket clove its way through the darkness. They had an instantaneous but
brilliant view of all that was happening,--saw the trawler lying on its
side, apparently only a few yards from the shore, saw the line stretched
to the beach, on which, even at that moment, a man was being drawn
ashore, licked by the spray, his strained face and wind-tossed hair
clearly visible. T