foam-capped waves could plainly be seen at the horizon line, breaking
here and there upon sunken rocks, over which in their playful moods they
scarcely rippled, but on which they now dashed with such white fury as
to make them discernible, even through the darkness of night. One long,
low ridge of submarine rocks, around which seethed a perpetual caldron,
was called the Devil's Bridge; but when erected, or for what purpose,
tradition failed to state.

Never, surely, did the wind rave about a peaceful inland dwelling as it
did about that lonely light-house for two long nights. It roared, it
howled, it shrieked, it whistled; it drew back to gather strength, and
then rushed to the attack with such mad fury, that the strong, young
light-house, whose frame was all of iron and stone, shrunk trembling
before it, and the children in their beds screamed aloud for fear. But
through all and beyond all, the calm, strong light sent out its
piercing, warning rays into the black night; and who can tell what
sinner it may that night have prevented from crossing the Devil's Bridge
to the world which lies beyond?

There was but one wreck during the storm, so far as our travellers
heard; and in this the lives were saved. Two men, caught out in a
fishing-smack, finding that their little vessel was foundering, betook
themselves to their small boat; but this filled more rapidly than they
could bale it; and they had just given themselves up for lost, when
their signals of distress were observed on board the light-ship
stationed near Newport, which sent a life-boat to their assistance, and
rescued them just as their little boat went to pieces.

When Mysie heard this occurrence mentioned, as they were journeying
homeward, it recalled to her mind a little incident of the day