and rushed out into the storm.

Bob was right--a ship had struck. Away off through the mist and rain he
could see the colored lights and the flash of the gun, calling for help.

The lifeboat men were already out and getting ready to launch their
heavy craft.

"Look! look! The ship is going down!"

The cry thrilled everyone to the very heart. It was true. The stately
ship was sinking fast. Down she went and came up again, once, twice
--and then no more.

The lifeboat went out in a hurry, but it was of no avail. The storm had
done its work and all on board had perished.

No, not all. Walking at the foot of the cliff a little later, Bob heard
a low moan, and soon came upon the body of an aged seaman jammed in
between the rocks. The man was fearfully bruised and did nothing but
moan as the youth bore him up to the cottage.

Here he was made as comfortable as possible on a cot. It was an hour
before he was able to open his eyes.

"Where am I?" he asked faintly. "Oh, the storm. I was hit in the back--I
am dying; I know it. Take me to Mrs. Leon Cromwell."

At this utterance Mrs. Cromwell and Bob were both greatly astonished.