The whole party went out into the raging night. They groped their way
after Bertie to the stables. A groom was dispatched on horseback to the
life-boat station. Lanterns were then procured, and, with the blast full
in their teeth, they fought their way to the shore.

Here were darkness and desolation unspeakable. The tide was high. Great
waves, flashing white through the darkness, came smiting through the
rocks as if they would rend the very surface of the earth apart. The
clouds scurrying overhead uncovered a star or two and instantly drew
together in impenetrable darkness.

Down by the sea-wall that protected the little village nestling between
the cliffs and the sea they found a knot of men and women. A short
distance away in the boiling tumult there shone a shifting light, but
between it and the shore the storm-god held undisputed possession.

"That's her!" explained one of the men to Bertie Richmond. "She's sunk
right down in them rocks, sir. It's a little schooner. I see her masts
a-stickin' up just now."

The man was one of his own gardeners. He yelled his information into
Bertie's ear with great enjoyment.

"Have you sent to the lifeboat chaps?" shouted Bertie.

"Young gentleman went an hour ago," came the answer. "But they are off
on another job to Mulworth, t'other side of the station. He wanted us to
go out in a fishing-boat. But no one 'ud go. He be gone for a bit o'
rope now. You see, sir, them rocks 'ud dash a boat to pieces like a bit