"Yes, Honeysuckle," said the old man. "And--and wait to see if he
comes ashore. I think--likely--Bob'll come ashore to-day. He was goin'
to bring--somethin'--for me. Is there a squall comin' up, Jewel
Bright?"

"A squall, Daddy?" said the child, wondering. "Why, there isn't a
cloud in the sky."

"Jes' so!" said Captain January. "I--only jist asked. Good-bye, Star
Bright."

"Dear Daddy! Good-bye!" cried the child, and she sped away over the
rocks.

So dark! and not a cloud in the sky. If he might have looked once
more, with those fast-darkening eyes, at the little blessed face which
held all the world in it! if he could call her back now, and kiss
her once more, and hold her little hand--No! no! steady, January!
steady now, and stand by!

Quite dark now. But that does not matter. No need of light for what
is now to be done. Slowly the old man raises himself; feels for the
wall, creeps along beside it. Here is the line. Is there any strength
left in that benumbed arm? Yes! "For the child, dear Lord, and Thou
helpin' me, as ever has been!"

Down comes the signal, and the old man creeps back to his chair again,
and composes himself decently, with reverent, folded hands, and head
bowed in waiting. "'He holdeth the waters in the hollow of His hand.
Behold, He taketh up the isles as a very little thing.' Amen! so be