I.

"As he stepped on deck he turned to look at it, and I saw him start as
though he saw something awful. He looked for half a minute, and then in
a half-choked sort of voice he gasped out, 'The Death-Light!'

"At the same moment the light, that I had took to be Hatteras, rolled
slowly, like a ball of fire, along the jib-top-sail stay to the
top-mast head, and then I knew it was a St. Elmo's fire, a thing I'd
heard of but never seen before.

"As we all looked at it, afraid almost to say a word, there came a
sound like a moan over the sea, and in another minute a cyclone, such
as I hope never to see again, laid us, first on our beam ends, and then
drove us at a fearful rate directly towards the coast.

"We drove this way for an hour or more, unable to do a thing to help
ourselves, and then she struck on Hatteras sands. Her masts went as she
struck, and as they fell a huge sea, rushing over the poor craft, swept
overboard the captain and two men. It was some time before we knew they
were gone, for we could see nothing nor hear anything but the howl of
the tempest.

"At last we got rid of the floating wreck of spars by clearing the
tangled rigging with our knives, and, thus relieved, the schooner was
driven a good bit farther over the sands. Finally she struck solid, and
began to break up. One of her boats was stove and worthless, and in
trying to clear away the other, a metallic life-boat, another man was
swept overboard and lost.

"The mate and two of the crew besides myself finally got away from the
wreck in this boat, and were driven in to the beach, on which we were
at last flung more dead than alive.

"The next morning we made our way to the light-house, where we were
kindly cared for, but where our Christmas dinner was a pretty sad
affair.

"The captain's body was washed up on the beach, and a week from that
day we took it and the news of his death together to his wife in New
York.

"Since then I have always felt easier when I have left Hatteras Light
well astern, as we have for this time, at any rate. Well, there's eight
bells, and I must be on deck, so good-night to you all, and pleasant
dreams."

"Is there any such thing as a 'death-light' that warns people of coming
disaster?" asked Ruth of her father, when the captain had left them.

"No, my dear," he answered, "there is not. The St. Elmo's light, or St.
Elmo's fire, is frequently seen in tropical seas, though rarely as far
north as Cape Hattera