ind. Anon, the quivering lightning comes again,
shedding a blue radiance over all.

Twice has the life-boat been repulsed and beaten back, in spite of the
strenuous efforts of its gallant crew. The second time a cry goes up
that strikes dismay to the hearts of those around, as a man is laid upon
the damp beach, who had gone forth full of courage with his fellows, but
now lies stiffening into the marble calm of death.

Dulce, who has run down to the strand without a word to any one, and who
is now standing a little apart with Roger's arm round her, hearing this
unearthly cry, covers her face with her hands and shivers violently in
every limb. The darting lightning has shown her the ghastly outline of
the poor, brave figure on the sand, now hushed in its last sleep.

At this moment, Portia, creeping up to where they are standing, with
hands uplifted to her forehead, tries to pierce the gloom. The spray
from a projecting rock being flung back upon them, drenches them
thoroughly. Roger, putting out his hand hurriedly, draws Dulce out of
its reach, and would have persuaded Portia to come to a more sheltered
spot, but she resists his entreaty, and, waving him from her
impatiently, still continues her eye-search for something that she
evidently supposes to be upon the beach. Where she is standing, a shadow
from a huge rock so covers her that she is invisible to any comer.

Now some one is advancing towards them through the darkness and clinging
mist. Dulce, who is sitting on the ground and weeping bitterly, does not
see him, but Roger goes quickly toward him. It is Fabian, pale, but
quite composed, and with a certain high resolve in his dark eyes. There
is, indeed, in this settled resolve something that might be almost
termed gladness.

"Ah! it is you," he says, hurriedly beckoning to Roger to come farther
away from Dulce, which sign Roger obeying brings both him and Fabian a
degree nearer to Portia. Yet, standing motionless as she does within the
gloom, they neither see her nor feel her presence.

"Here, catch my watch," says Fabian, quickly, in a business-like tone;
"and," with a short laugh, "keep it if I don't get back." He flings him
the watch as he speaks.

"Where are you going?" asks Roger, breathlessly, "where?"

"With those fellows in the life-boat. They want another hand now poor
Jenkins has been bowled over, and I shall go; they are losing heart, but
my going with them will change all that. Tell Dulce--"