.'s boats."

"He's a tarnal idiot t' do that in the face of this gale. He ain't no
shucks of a sailor. John Jones come off frum the Station t'-day, an' he
ain't over careful, bein' what ye might say half fish an' half
dare-devil, but John, he started right back when he left an order fur
me. Mark ought t' have knowed better. Janet, what is the matter with ye?
Here hold on, gal, till I get that Cure All!"

Janet held on, and smiled feebly as Davy poured the burning liquid down
her throat.

"Thanks!" she whispered presently. "I was mistaken, I did not eat any
dinner. Davy, I am hungry. I always need my food, Davy; you know how I
am." She was laughing nervously.

"Come on, then!" commanded Davy, eyeing her critically; "I ain't never
seen ye so done up by goin' without one meal before. I believe yer
threatened with 'spepsy, it comes now an' then, with that imptiness in
the pit of yer stummick."

That night Janet tried to sleep in her little room, but the fury of the
storm, and her heavy, anxious secret forbade an instant's rest. At last,
about midnight, she dressed and went up to Davy. He was standing near
the entrance of the lamp, and his tired face was drawn and pitiful.

"By gum!" he ejaculated when he saw the girl. "This wind comes straight
frum Greenland's icy mountains, an' ain't losin' any of its temper as it
comes. The waves could be seen over the dunes, long 'fore sundown; an'
jest hear that."

"What is it, Davy?" Janet pressed beside him. "It sounds like some one
knocking on the glass."

"An' so 't is, so 't is! Least it's birds. Poor, dumb things, blown on
land an' makin' fur the Light. Bein' seafarers, like as not, they know
the Light is t' guide 'em, an' they come t' what they think is safety.
Poor, poor things! They beat the glass as if askin' fur mercy, an'
shelter, an' here I be a-listenin' t' them knockin' themselves t' death
an' unable t' help. If the good God takes heed of the sparrows what
falls, He ain't goin' t' overlook the gulls; but 't ain't much comfort
to think on that, when He lets 'em die, die right agin the Light. Gum!
we ain't had anythin' like this since Tom Davis was caught in his skimmy
over by the dunes twenty-five years back; least we haven't had anythin'
like it as bad so early in the Fall."

"Come down, Davy," pleaded Janet, "don't stand and hear the poor birds
beat themselves to death. To-morrow they will lie thick in the garden.
Oh! it is a fearful gale! And Tom Davis was so