inanimate burthen into the depths. He rose, fighting madly for his
life. Now surely he was doomed! But again, as if human existence
depended on naught more serious than the spinning of a coin, his knees
rested on the same few staunch timbers, now the ceiling of the
music-room, and he was given a brief respite. His greatest difficulty
was to get his breath, so dense was the spray through which he was
driven. Even in that terrible moment he kept his senses. The girl,
utterly unconscious, showed by the convulsive heaving of her breast
that she was choking. With a wild effort he swung her head round to
shield her from the flying scud with his own form.

The tiny air-space thus provided gave her some relief, and in that
instant the sailor seemed to recognize her. He was not remotely capable
of a definite idea. Just as he vaguely realized the identity of the
woman in his arms the unsteady support on which he rested toppled over.
Again he renewed the unequal contest. A strong resolute man and a
typhoon sea wrestled for supremacy.

This time his feet plunged against something gratefully solid. He was
dashed forward, still battling with the raging turmoil of water, and a
second time he felt the same firm yet smooth surface. His dormant
faculties awoke. It was sand. With frenzied desperation, buoyed now by
the inspiring hope of safety, he fought his way onwards like a maniac.

Often he fell, three times did the backwash try to drag him to the
swirling death behind, but he staggered blindly on, on, until even the
tearing gale ceased to be laden with the suffocating foam, and his
faltering feet sank in deep soft white sand.

[Illustration: WITH FRENZIED DESPERATION, BUOYED NOW BY THE INSPIRING