the gale; the great hollows
of the Devil's Jaw thundered back the roar of the breakers that filled
their cavernous depths with mad turmoil. On land, on sea, in sky, all was
battle,--such battle as even Captain Jeb agreed he had never seen on
Killykinick before.

"I've faced many a hurricane, but never nothing as bad as this. If it
wasn't for them cliffs behind us and the stretch of reef before, durned if
we wouldn't be washed clean off the face of the earth!"

"Laddie, laddie!" was the cry that blended with Brother Bart's prayers for
mercy. "God in heaven, take care of my poor laddie through this! I ought
not to have let him out of my sight."

"But he's safe, Brother Bart," said Dan, striving to comfort himself with
the thought. "He is on land, you know, just as we are; and the old
lighthouse is as strong as the 'Lady Jane'; and God can take care of him
anywhere."

"Sure He can, lad,--He can. I'm the weak old sinner to doubt and fear,"
was the broken answer. "But he's only a bit of a boy, my own little
laddie,--only a wee bit of a boy, that never saw trouble or danger in his
life. To be facing this beside a dying man,--ah, God have mercy on him,
poor laddie!"

So, amid fears and doubts and prayers, the wild hours of the storm and
darkness passed; the fierce hurricane, somewhat shorn of its first tropic
strength, swept on its northward way; the shriek of the wind sank into
moan and murmur; the sea fell back, like a passion-weary giant; the clouds
broke and scattered, and a glorious rainbow arched the clearing sky.

The bolts and bars that had done such good duty were lifted, and the crew
of the "Lady Jane" went out to reconnoitre a very damaged domain.
Cow-house and chicken-house were roofless. Brown Betty lay crouching
fearful in the ruins while her feathered neighbors fluttered homeless in
the hollows of the rocks. The beans and peas and corn,--all things that
had lifted their green growth too proudly, were crushed to the earth. But
far worse than this was the havoc wrought on the beach. One half of the
wharf was down. The small boats, torn from their moorings, had disappeared
entirely. The motor boat Jim and Dud had hired for the season was stove in
upon the rocks. The "Sary Ann," stranded upon the shoals of Numskull Nob,
to which she had been swept by the gale, lay without mast or rudder,
leaking at every joint.

The two old salts surveyed the scene for a moment in stoic silence,
realizing all it meant to the