r there must have been awakened by the row in time to get
off."

"I can't hear a word you say;" Van Diemen tried to pitch his voice
higher than the wind. "Did you say a boat? But where?"

Crickledon the carpenter made signal to Herbert. They stepped rapidly up
the field.

"Women feels their weakness in times like these, my dear," Mrs.
Crickledon said to Annette. "What with our clothes and our cowardice it
do seem we're not the equals of men when winds is high."

Annette expressed the hope to her that she had not lost much property.
Mrs. Crickledon said she was glad to let her know she was insured in
an Accident Company. "But," said she, "I do grieve for that poor man
Tinman, if alive he be, and comes ashore to find his property wrecked
by water. Bless ye! he wouldn't insure against anything less common than
fire; and my house and Crickledon's shop are floating timbers by this
time; and Marine Parade and Belle Vue are safe to go. And it'll be a
pretty welcome for him, poor man, from his investments."

A cry at a tremendous blow of a wave on the doomed house rose from the
field. Back and front door were broken down, and the force of water
drove a round volume through the channel, shaking the walls.

"I can't stand this," Van Diemen cried.

Annette was too late to hold him back. He ran up the field. She was
preparing to run after when Mrs. Crickledon touched her arm and implored
her: "Interfere not with men, but let them follow their judgements when
it's seasons of mighty peril, my dear. If any one's guilty it's me, for
minding my husband of a boat that was launched for a life-boat here,
and wouldn't answer, and is at the shed by the Crouch--left lying there,
I've often said, as if it was a-sulking. My goodness!"

A linen sheet bad been flung out from one of the windows of the house on
the beach, and flew loose and flapping in sign of distress.

"It looks as if they had gone mad in that house, to have waited so long
for to declare theirselves, poor souls," Mrs. Crickledon said, sighing.

She was assured right and left that signals had been seen before, and
some one stated that the cook of Mr. Tinman, and also Mrs. Cavely, were
on shore.

"It's his furniture, poor man, he sticks to: and nothing gets round the
heart so!" resumed Mrs. Crickledon. "There goes his bed-linen!"

The sheet was whirled and snapped away by the wind; distended doubled,
like a flock of winter geese changeing alphabetical letters on the
c