'Sandy,' she said, 'what time do you make it? My clock's stopped!'

'Twenty minutes past six,' said my grandfather, looking at his watch.

'Past six!' she repeated. 'Why, Jem's very late!'

'Yes,' said my grandfather; 'I'll go down to the pier, and have a look
out.'

But he came back soon, saying it was impossible to see anything; the fog
was so thick, he was almost afraid of walking over the pier. 'But he's
bound to be in at seven, he said (for that was the hour the
lighthousemen were required to be on the island again), 'so he'll soon
be up now.'

The clock moved on, and still Jem Millar did not come. I saw Mrs. Millar
running to her door every now and then with her baby in her arms, to
look down the garden path. But no one came.

At last the clock struck seven.

'I never knew him do such a thing before!' said my grandfather, as he
rose to go down to the pier once more.




CHAPTER VIII.