quieted down, and she had a curious feeling that she was
drifting, drifting, in this solemn silence, out of a region of torturing
fear into the peaceful harbour of a dream.

The twist of the oars in the rowlocks, the rhythmical dip, and the ripple
of water against the boat were restful in their monotony. She felt her
eyes closing as something slipped through her fingers--Susie's boot, with
its long damp laces! She looked at her lap in horror, and tried to push
the dreadful object away; but there was nothing there, excepting the wet
lines that had fallen from her fingers. Some one put out a rough, kind
hand to steady her, and she straightened herself with a start, meeting
the old sailor's keen eyes.

"Carry on, ma'am, carry on." Then, a moment later, "Way enough!"

In a minute Mr. Amherst had caught at the crags and drawn the boat
alongside, and Ben had sent his voice pealing up against the cliff in a
volume of sound that was absolutely terrifying.

"Hulloo! Hulloo--oo!"

A few frightened sea-birds flew out of the crevices in the cliff and
wheeled about their heads, but there was no other sound. Mrs. Beauchamp's
eyes filled with agonized tears, but the sailor's cheeriness was
infectious.

"I'll wake them," he said.

Again his voice went up into the night, as if he defied the poor defences
of the dark.

"Hulloo! Hulloo--oo!"

"Susie!" cried Mrs. Beauchamp, in her thinner treble.

And this time there _was_ an answer--a cry small and faint; not at all
like Susie's boisterous everyday voice, but human. Ben was out of the
boat in a minute, scrambling from peak to peak, and shouting as he went.

Mrs. Beauchamp sat down with an uncertain movement, and covered her face
with her hands; whilst Mr. Amherst, clinging to the rock for fear the
ebbing tide should carry them out to sea, spoke to her with whimsical
entreaty. "Mrs. Beauchamp, please don't faint until Nelson comes back!
Pull yourself together--he _expects_ us to do our duty; and, besides, you
will frighten the children."

The last suggestion had an instantaneous effect. From that calm region
where love and despair were alike forgotten she came back with a
conscious effort to the unsteady boat, and Mr. Amherst's alarmed eyes,
and the lapping water against the bow.

"That's right," said Mr. Amherst, with great relief in his voice. "I
really didn't know how to get to you. Listen!"

"Safe!" The great voice came pealing down the cliff, waking the echoes on
the