[Illustration with caption: CAVE ROCK] All through the struggle Helen
had sat motionless and fascinated at the strength and skill this man
displayed in his efforts to pull for the shore, but when at last they
were there, and she felt his strong arms about her, all her courage
and strength failed her, and she fainted. He clasped her closer to his
heart and looked into her colorless face. Her clothes were dripping,
and her golden hair was streaming about her face. Jack stopped for a
moment and pressed his burning lips to hers--they were icy.

"My sweet burden of glorious womanhood," he whispered. "Thank God you
are safe!" And he climbed up the rocky mountainside to the only
available shelter.... Cave Rock. There he took his dripping burden and
laid it on the damp, cold stones. There was no sign of life. He took
off his coat, rang the water out as best he could, and spread it on
the rocks and laid Helen upon it. He rubbed her hands and arms, and
bathed her head, but she remained chilled.

If he only had a dry match to start a fire with, or some brandy, but
alas! they were storm-tossed souls, with no means of warmth, except
that of the man's palpitating body..... He was aglow with warmth from
the exertion of rowing and climbing up the mountainside. He would
bring back life and pulsation to this woman whom he loved with all his
heart and soul, by the warmth of his own glowing body. As he drew off
his waistcoat and threw it aside, something fell to the ground. He
felt about in the dark until he found the object; it was a tiny silver
match case, some silly Christmas present which he never used and had
forgotten all about, but it was surely a welcome friend at this
particular moment. Were there any matches in it?.... He held his
breath for a moment while he opened it .... His sigh of relief told