due to the example set them by
Barbara Hatchett, who acted all through that wild hour as a sailor's
daughter and a sailor's wife should act. Her composure and her loud,
commanding voice and encouraging manner did wonders in soothing the
women-kind, and in putting out of their heads the foolish thoughts
which lead to foolish actions.

Marjorie went up to Lancelot and laid her hand upon his sleeve. He
looked at her with the smile he always gave when he greeted her, and he
spoke to her as he might have spoken if he and she had been standing
together on the downs of Sendennis instead of on that nameless reef in
that nameless danger.

'Well, dear,' he said, 'what is it?'

'What do you wish me to do?' she asked.

'Comfort the women-folk, dear,' he answered. Then, catching sight as the
wind moved her cloak of her night-rail, he added quickly: 'Run down and
dress first.'

'Is there truly time?'

'Aye, aye, time and to spare. We may float the ship yet, God willing. Do
as I bid you.'

She lingered for a moment, and said softly:

'If anything should happen, let me be next you at the last.'

I was standing near enough to hear, and the tears came into my eyes.
Lancelot caught his sister's hand and pressed it as he would have
pressed the hand of a comrade. Then she turned away and slipped silently
below.

I am glad to remember that good order prevailed in the face of our
common peril. Our colonists, men and women, kept very quiet, and the
sailors, under Cornelys Jensen, acted with untiring zeal. I must say to
his credit that Jensen proved a cool hand in the midst of a misfortune
which must have come as a special misfortune to himself. It is a curious
fact, and I know not how to account for it, unless by the smart knock on
my head and the confusion of events that followed upon it, but all
memory of what I had seen and heard In Jensen's cabin had slipped from
my mind. No--I will not say all memory. While I watched him working, and
while I worked with him, my head--which still ached sorely after my
tumble--was troubled, besides its own pain, with the pain of groping
after a recollection. I knew that there was something in my mind which
concerned Cornelys Jensen, something which I wanted to recall, something
which I ought to recall, something which I could not for the life of me
recall. What with my fall, and the danger to the ship, and the strain of
the toil to meet that danger, that page of my memory was folded over,
and