landing in the cold, gray dawn of
the early morning, on that strange, lonely coast; of their subsequent
wanderings, hungry and weary in the swamp--but this was so different!

He was on board a stout steamer, commanded by good, capable officers,
and really had no fear as to the vessel's safety, though it was blowing
a hurricane, and the locality a particularly dangerous one.

While these reflections were passing through Phil's mind, Captain
Barrett, a coast-skipper of the old-time sort, approached them, his
rubber storm-suit glistening in the weird light of the lantern he
carried, his weather-beaten face wearing an anxious expression, and his
brows closely knit in a searching look leeward.

"It's so confounded dark, and the mist and drizzle so thick, one can't
see the ship's bows; but we ought to make Largo Light soon, if I am not
far out in my reckoning. But you can't tell, in these chop seas, where
you are. The wind drives you ahead and the current pulls you back, and
the first thing you know you're on the rocks, and the deuce and all to
pay," remarked the captain, his sharp, gray eyes still searching the
rainy darkness. "I estimate our speed at fourteen knots--what say you,
Mr. Moore?"

"Not so much. Twelve knots, I think a fair calculation."

"Then we must be not far from Devil's Rock," said the captain,
thoughtfully. "According to my reckoning, we should have passed it an
hour ago; and the Devil's Rock it will prove, indeed, if we are so
unlucky as to strike it such a night as this."

Phil, who was near enough to hear every word of the above conversation,
began to feel a little alarmed, in spite of himself.

It was past midnight, the waves rolling mountains high and the ship
laboring heavily. He wondered if Mr. Herdic knew how hard it was
blowing, and, if he did, how it was possible for him to lie calmly in
his berth and listen, undisturbed, to the tumult raging on every hand
around him.

"A light!" shouted the lookout, from the maintop.

"Where away?" cried the captain.

"Broad on our weather-beam."

"Right you are!" was the quick response, just as there loomed through
the darkness a lurid red light, like the eye of some huge sea-monster,
that had reared its head above the boiling waves for a momentary view of
the wild scene.

"That must be Largo Light," said the mate, somewhat doubtfully.

"Yes," replied the captain, with a look of great relief. "Now we know
where we are, though it's not often I am