desolate,
declaring that he should come to want, and die in the poorhouse.

Probably the money the wretch had lost was not a fifth part of his
fortune, and he was in no more danger of coming to want than the sea
was of being dried up. But he felt as though he had lost all; and if he
had been stripped of everything, he could hardly have suffered more. He
felt poor, and wanted to earn money in some way. The dog-fish season
had opened favorably, and he was actually preparing to go into the
business of catching them. Dock Vincent had promised him the use of a
dory,--for he could not afford to buy one,--and he had taken Levi's old
lines and repaired them for use.

Mr. Fairfield groaned and sighed all day long while he worked upon his
fishing-lines and his trolls. He could not tell who had stolen his
money, and in his hatred of his nephew, he still persisted in
suspecting him. There was no proof, and he could do nothing but believe
that Levi was the thief. It was useless to say anything or do anything,
for Levi was so popular that justice could not be had.

The lines, the troll, and the bait were all ready, and the old man
carried them down to the landing-place where Dock had left the dory.
Along the shore of this part of Cape Ann there is a succession of rocky
peninsulas, extending out into the sea. Between these are the beaches,
stretching in semicircles from bluff to bluff, as they have been
fashioned by the mighty waves which roll in from the open ocean. On
these sandy shores the billows chant their solemn melody all day and
all night long, and break with sharper pitch and fiercer swell upon the
jagged rocks that form the headlands.

On the road, but a few rods from Mr. Fairfield's, and near one of these
peninsulas, was the house of Dock Vincent, where his family had always
lived, even when he was in New York. The end of the headland curved
round so as to leave a portion of the water behind it protected from
the force of the sea, thus forming a sheltered landing-place. Off this
point lay The Starry Flag, and on the rocks where the boatmen usually
embarked were several skiffs, and among them Dock Vincent's dory, which
Mr. Fairfield was to use.

Across the end of the headland, a few rods from the extreme point, was
a natural chasm in the rocks, through which the water flowed at high
tide. It was about ten feet wide, and rather more than this in depth.
Across it a plank had been placed for the convenience of fishermen