eft, and in less than a minute George caught them up, on
horseback.

"I say," he asked, walking his mare close alongside of Taffy, "you
don't think this serious, eh?"

"I don't know. Joey wasn't in the crowd, or I should have noticed
him. He's daring beyond his strength." He pulled a whistle from his
pocket, blew it twice, and listened. This had been his signal when
firing a charge; he had often blown it to warn the child to creep
away into shelter.

There was no answer.

"Mr. Vyell had best trot along the upper slope," the Chief Officer
suggested, "while we search down by the creek."

"Wait a moment," Taffy answered. "Let's try the wreck first."

"But the tide's running. He'd never go there."

"He's a queer child. I know him better than you."

They ran downhill toward the creek, calling as they went, but getting
no answer.

"But the wreck!" exclaimed the Chief Officer. "It's out of reason!"

"Hi! What was that?"

"Oh, my good Lord," groaned one of the volunteers, "it's the crake,
master! It's Langona crake calling the drowned!"

"Hush, you fool! Listen--I thought as much! Light a flare.
Mr. Saul--he's out there calling!"

The first match spluttered and went out. They drew close around the
Chief Officer while he struck the second to keep off the wind, and in
those few moments the child's wail reached them distinctly across the
darkness.

The flame leaped up and shone, and they drew back a pace, shading
their eyes from it and peering into the steel-blue landscape which
sprang on them out of the night. They had halted a few yards only
from the cliff, and the flare cast the shadow of its breast-high
fence of tamarisks forward and almost half-way across the creek, and
there on the sands, a little beyond the edge of this shadow, stood
the child.

They could even see his white face. He stood on an island of sand
around which the tide swirled in silence, cutting him off from the
shore, cutting him off from the wreck behind.

He did not cry any more, but stood with his crutch planted by the
edge of the widening stream, and looked toward them.

And Taffy looked at George.

"I know," said George quietly, and gathered up his reins.
"Stand aside, please."

As they drew aside, not understanding, he called to his mare.
One living creature, at any rate, could still trust all to George
Vyell. She hurtled past them and rose at the tamarisk-hedge blindly.
Followed silence--a long silence; then a