louds, darted this way and that, and finally outspread on the waters
breaking against Marine Parade.

"They cannot have thought there was positive danger in remaining," said
Annette.

"Mr. Tinman was waiting for the cheapest Insurance office," a man
remarked to Mrs. Crickledon.

"The least to pay is to the undertaker," she replied, standing on
tiptoe. "And it's to be hoped he 'll pay more to-day. If only those
walls don't fall and stop the chance of the boat to save him for more
outlay, poor man! What boats was on the beach last night, high up and
over the ridge as they was, are planks by this time and only good for
carpenters."

"Half our town's done for," one old man said; and another followed him
in a pious tone: "From water we came and to water we go."

They talked of ancient inroads of the sea, none so serious as this
threatened to be for them. The gallant solidity, of the house on
the beach had withstood heavy gales: it was a brave house. Heaven be
thanked, no fishing boats were out. Chiefly well-to-do people would
be the sufferers--an exceptional case. For it is the mysterious and
unexplained dispensation that: "Mostly heaven chastises we."

A knot of excited gazers drew the rest of the field to them. Mrs.
Crickledon, on the edge of the crowd, reported what was doing to Annette
and Miss Fellingham. A boat had been launched from the town. "Praise
the Lord, there's none but coastguard in it!" she exclaimed, and excused
herself for having her heart on her husband.

Annette was as deeply thankful that her father was not in the boat.

They looked round and saw Herbert beside them. Van Diemen was in the
rear, panting, and straining his neck to catch sight of the boat now
pulling fast across a tumbled sea to where Tinman himself was perceived,
beckoning them wildly, half out of one of the windows.

"A pound apiece to those fellows, and two if they land Mart Tinman
dry; I've promised it, and they'll earn it. Look at that! Quick, you
rascals!"

To the east a portion of the house had fallen, melted away. Where it
stood, just below the line of shingle, it was now like a structure
wasting on a tormented submerged reef. The whole line was given over to
the waves.

"Where is his sister?" Annette shrieked to her father.

"Safe ashore; and one of the women with her. But Mart Tinman would stop,
the fool! to-poor old boy! save his papers and things; and has n't a
head to do it, Martha Cavely tells me. They're at him