followed a little more slowly. At last they all stood together upon the rocky floor of the bay.

Monica looked out to sea. She was the first to realise what had happened.

“She has struck on the reef!” she said. “She does not drift. She has struck!”

“And in such a sea she will be dashed to pieces in a very short time,” said Randolph, as another signal flashed out from the doomed vessel.

Other lights were moving about the shore. It was plain that the whole population of the little hamlet had gathered at [26]the water’s edge. Through the gusts of rain they could see indistinctly moving figures; they could catch as a faint murmur the loud, eager tones of their voices.

[26]

“Stay here, Monica,” said Randolph, “under the shelter of this rock. I must go and see what is being done. Wait here for me.”

She had held fast by his arm till now! but she loosed his clasp as she heard these words.

“You will come back?” she said, striving to speak calmly and steadily.

“Yes, as soon as I can. I must see what can be done. There seems to be a boat. I must go and see if it cannot be launched. The sea in the bay is not so very wild.”

[27]

[27]

Randolph was gone already. Beatrice and Monica were left standing in the lee of a projection of the cliff. They thought they were quite alone. They did not see a crouching figure not many paces away, squeezed into a dark fissure of the rock. The night was too obscure to see anything, save where the flashing lights illumined the gloom. Even the wild beast glitter of a pair of fierce eyes watching intently passed unseen and unheeded.

Monica looked out to sea with a strange fixed yearning in her dark eyes. She was looking towards the vessel, struck fast upon the very rock where she had once stood face to face with death. How well she remembered that moment and the strange calmness that possessed her! She never realised the peril she was in—it had [28]seemed a small thing to her then whether she lived or died. She recalled her feelings so well—was she really the same Monica who had stood so calmly there whilst the waves leaped up as if to devour her? Where was her old, calm indifference now?—that strange courage 

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