-that, rather, I was dead.

Then all seemed black about me. I would have clutched at somewhat, but
I felt a cold hand grasp mine in appealing agony. They brought in with
ropes through the breakers the five men who had neared the shore in the
young sailor's new fishing-boat.

But the "Twin Brothers," the sublime figure on the mast, the toiling
figure in the boat, had "gone home together!"

XVI

THE POPLAR LEAVES TREMBLE

It was Vesty's hand that had wrung mine. Captain Rafe, after he lost
his sons, hardly spoke without drawing his own trembling hand along his
piteous face.

"Notely fell from the mast and was stunted; they put him in the boat:
else he wouldn't 'a' come and left my Gurd, I b'lieve." Tears rolled
down his cheeks.

Vesty spoke to me so softly, as if her head were turned, or she were
wandering in a dream. "When Gurdon had anything that anybody needed,
and they asked him for it, he always gave it them. So they asked him
for his life--and he gave that!"

Notely, on recovering consciousness, had been carried to his house at
the Neck: by the next morning they had his mother with him; he was in a
fever.

Would Vesty remember now the promise she had asked of Mrs. Garrison?

At all events, the sick man babbled deliriously of past days, had
fallen from the rock once more, and would have Vesty to nurse him:
"where," asking ever, "is Vesty?"

Mrs. Garrison herself went to her, pleading his pain and danger. Vesty
came.

"Hello! we're saved!--the Vesty!" cried Notely, whose fever had been
plunging him in cold sea-waves, his voice a feeble echo of its old gay
tone, as he put up his hand to her.

So ashy and sunken was his face, Vesty took him on her arm as she would
her child; he fell asleep.

"Vesty stops the pain--no one lifts me like Vesty--sing, Vesty!" from
pathetic lips and wandering blue eyes that would die if one recalled
them to their sorrow.

"Only stay," said Mrs. Garrison. "His life hangs upon it. Surely you
are not afraid to have your child with me?"

Her heart was full of tenderness for the girl. "I would die rather
than anything should happen to your child, Vesty," she cried, with a
sincere impulse.

Vesty lifted those Basin eyes.

"Oh, he is not old enough yet to understand my worldliness," said Mrs.
Garrison, with bitter lips.

For, from entrusting the child at first to her servants, while Vesty
was in the sick-room, Mrs. Garrison had grown to have a jealous care