ten!" she cried. "Listen!"

Mr. Fentolin turned helplessly around. The little group of fishermen
had closed in upon Sarson and Meekins. The woman's hand was upon his
shoulder; she pointed seaward to where a hissing line of white foam
marked the spot where the topmost of the rocks were visible.

"You wondered why I have spent so much of my time out here," she said
quietly. "Now you will know. If you listen as I am listening, as I have
listened for so many weary hours, so many weary years, you will hear
them calling to me, David and John and Stephen. 'The light!' Do you hear
what they are crying? 'The light! Fentolin's light!' Look!"

She forced him to look once more at the top of the boat-house.

"They were right!" she proclaimed, her voice gaining in strength and
intensity. "They were neither drunk nor reckless. They steered as
straight as human hand could guide a tiller, for Fentolin's light! And
there they are, calling and calling at the bottom of the sea--my three
boys and my man. Do you know for whom they call?"

Mr. Fentolin shrank back in his chair.

"Take this woman away!" he ordered the fishermen. "Do you hear? Take her
away; she is mad!"

They looked towards him, but not one of them moved. Mr. Fentolin raised
his whistle to his lips, and blew it.

"Meekins!" he cried. "Where are you, Meekins?"

He turned his head and saw at once that Meekins was powerless. Five or
six of the fishermen had gathered around him. There were at least thirty
of them about, sinewy, powerful men. The only person who moved towards
Mr. Fentolin's carriage was Jacob, the coast guardsman.

"Mr. Fentolin, sir," he said, "the lads have got your bully safe. It's a
year and more that Hannah Cox has been about the village with some story
about two lights on a stormy night. It's true what she says--that her
man and boys lie drowned. There's William Green, besides, and a nephew
of my own--John Kallender. And Philip Green--he was saved. He swore by
all that was holy that he steered straight for the light when his boat
struck, and that as he swam for shore, five minutes later, he saw the
light reappear in another place. It's a strange story. What have you to
say, sir, about that?"

He pointed straight to the wire-encircled globe which towered on its
slender support above the boat-house. Mr. Fentolin looked at it and
looked back at the coast guardsman. The brain of a Machiavelli could
scarcely have invented a plausible reply.

"The lig