ng-room door, found it empty, the men being in bed
upstairs awaiting their turns, and then strode on to the captain's
room, his sou'wester and tarpaulin drenched with spray and sand, his
hip-boots leaving watery tracks along the clean floor.

"Wreck ashore at No. 14, sir!" Parks called out in a voice hoarse with
fighting the wind.

The captain sprang from his cot--he was awake, his light still burning.

"Anybody drownded?"

"No, sir; got 'em all. Seven of 'em, so the patrol said. Come ashore
'bout supper-time."

"What is she?"

"A two-master from Virginia loaded with cord-wood. Surf's in bad shape,
sir; couldn't nothin' live in it afore; it's wuss now. Everything's a
bobble; turrible to see them sticks thrashin' 'round and slammin'
things."

"Didn't want no assistance, did they?"

"No, sir; they got the fust line 'round the foremast and come off in
less'n a hour; warn't none of 'em hurted."

"Is it any better outside?"

"No, sir; wuss. I ain't seen nothin' like it 'long the coast for years.
Good-night," and Parks took another hole in the belt holding his
tarpaulins together, opened the back door, walked to the edge of the
house, steadied himself against the clapboards, and boldly facing the
storm, continued his patrol.

The captain stretched himself again on his bed; he had tried to sleep,
but his brain was too active. As he lay listening to the roar of the
surf and the shrill wail of the wind, his thoughts would revert to Bart
and what his return meant; particularly to its effect on the fortunes
of the doctor, of Jane and of Lucy.

Jane's attitude continued to astound him. He had expected that Lucy
might not realize the advantages of his plan at first--not until she
had seen Bart and listened to what he had to say; but that Jane, after
the confession of her own weakness should still oppose him, was what he
could not under stand, he would keep his promise, however, to the very
letter. She should have free range to dissuade Bart from his purpose.
After that Bart should have his way. No other course was possible, and
no other course either honest or just.

Then he went over in his mind all that had happened to him since the
day he had driven Bart out into the night, and from that same House of
Refuge, too, which, strange to say, lay within sight of the Station. He
recalled his own and Bart's sufferings; his loneliness; the bitterness
of the terrible secret which had kept his mouth closed all these years,