of the twisting path as if his very life depended upon the stranger's
comfort. The women, children and very old men of the harbor--all who had
not gone to the scene of the wreck save the bedridden--came out of the
cabins, asked questions and stared in wonder at the lady in the hammock.
The skipper answered a few of their questions and waved them out of the
way. They fell back in staring groups. The skipper ran ahead of the
litter to his own house and met Mother Nolan on the threshold.

"Here bes a poor young woman from a wrack, granny," he explained. "She
bes nigh perished wid the cold an' wet. Ye'll give her yer bed, granny,
till the fire bes started in Father McQueen's room."

"Saints save us, Denny!" exclaimed Mother Nolan. "First it bes diamonds
wid ye, an' now it bes a young woman. Wracks will sure be the ruin o'
ye yet, Denny Nolan! This way, b'ys, an' give me a sight o' the poor
lamb. Lay her here an' take yer tarpaulin away wid ye. Holy saints fend
us all, but she bes dead--an' a great lady at that!"

The stranger opened her eyes and looked at the old woman. Her wonderful
eyes seemed to bewitch Mother Nolan, even as they had bewitched the
skipper. The old dame stared, trembled and babbled. Turning to the
gaping men, including Denny, she cried to them to get out where they
belonged and shut the door after them. They obeyed, treading on each
other's heels. Even the skipper departed, though reluctantly.

"May every hair o' yer head turn into a wax candle to light ye to
glory," babbled the old woman, as she unwound the coarse blankets from
about the girl's unresisting body. The other smiled faintly.

"I don't want to be lighted to glory--just now," she said. "I must sing