It was monstrous--a thing inconceivable--that the seas should have lifted a vessel of three hundred tons and carried her half a mile up that shallow creek.

Yet there she lay.

A horrible thought seized him.
Could she have been there last night when he had drawn the sailor ashore?
And had he left four or five others to drown close by, in the darkness?
No, the tide at that hour had scarcely passed half-flood.

He thanked God for that.
Well, there she lay, high and dry, with plenty to attend to her.
It was time for him to discover the damage done to the light-house plant and machinery, perhaps to the building itself.

In half an hour the workmen would be arriving.
He walked slowly back to the house, and found Humility preparing breakfast.
"Where is he ?" Taffy asked, meaning the sailor.