the uncertainty would forever stand
between him and Lynde like a spectre. But he thought more of Lynde's
pain than his own. He would have elected to bear any suffering if by
so doing he could have freed her from the nightmare dread of Harmon's
returning to claim her. That dread had always hung over her and now it
must be intensified to agony by her love for another man. And he could
do nothing--nothing. He groaned aloud in his helplessness.

One evening in late November Alan flung aside his pen and yielded to
the impulse that urged him to the lake shore. He did not mean to seek
Lynde--he would go to a part of the shore where there would be no
likelihood of meeting her. But get away by himself he must. A November
storm was raging and there would be a certain satisfaction in
breasting its buffets and fighting his way through it. Besides, he
knew that Isabel King was in the house and he dreaded meeting her.
Since his conviction that she had written that letter to Lynde, he
could not tolerate the girl and it tasked his self-control to keep
from showing his contempt openly. Perhaps Isabel felt it beneath all
his outward courtesy. At least she did not seek his society as she had
formerly done.

It was the second day of the storm; a wild northeast gale was blowing
and cold rain and freezing sleet fell in frequent showers. Alan
shivered as he came out into its full fury on the lake shore. At first
he could not see the water through the driving mist. Then it cleared
away for a moment and he stopped short, aghast at the sight which met
his eyes.

Opposite him was a long low island known as Philip's Point, dwindling
down at its northeastern side to two long narrow bars of quicksand.
Alan's horrified eyes saw a small schooner sunk between the bars; her
hull was entirely under water and in the rigging clung one solitary
figure. So much he saw before the Point was blotted out in a renewed
downpour of sleet.

Without a moment's hesitation Alan turned and ran for Four Winds,
which was only about a quarter of a mile away around a headland. With
the Captain's assistance, something might be done. Other help could
not be obtained before darkness would fall and then it would be
impossible to do anything. He dashed up the steps of Four Winds and
met Emily, who had flung the door open. Behind her was Lynde's pale
face with its alarmed questioning eyes.

"Where is the Captain?" gasped Alan. "There's a vessel on Philip's
Point and one ma