he
head. Greeba stooped quickly to peer into his face in the darkness,
and then rose up and turned away with a sigh that was like a sigh of
relief.

"He's done for," said Jason, putting him down.

"Who is he?" cried a score of voices.

"God knows; fetch a lantern," said Jason.

"See, there's a light in old Orry's hut yonder. Let's away there with
him. It will be the nearest place," said Kane Wade.

Then shoulder-high they raised the insensible man and carried him to
Stephen Orry's hut.

"What a weight he is!" said Kane Wade. "Slip along, somebody, and get
the door opened."

Chalse A'Killey ran on ahead.

"Where's Stephen, to-night, that he's not out with us at work same as
this?" said Matt Mylechreest.

"He's been down here all week," puffed Nary Crowe.

In another minute Chalse was knocking at the door, and calling loudly
as he knocked:

"Stephen! Stephen! Stephen Orry!"

There came no answer, and he knocked again and called yet louder:

"Stephen, let us in. There's a man here dying."

But no one stirred within the house. "He's asleep," said one.

"Stephen--Stephen Orry--Stephen Orry--wake up, man--can't you hear
us? Have you no bowels, that you'd keep the man out?"

"He's not at home--force the door," Kane Wade shouted.

One blow was enough. The door was fastened only by a hemp rope wound
around a hasp on the outside, and it fell open with a crash. Then
the men with the burden staggered into the house. They laid the
insensible man on the floor, and there the light of the lamp that
burned in the window fell upon his face.

"Lord-a-massy!" they cried, "it's Stephen Orry hisself."

CHAPTER X.

THE END OF ORRY.

When the tumult was over, and all lives appeared to be saved, and
nothing seemed lost save the two vessels--the schooner and the yawl,
which still rose and fell on the Carick and the forked reef of the
head--and the people separated, and the three old net weavers
straggled back to their home, the crew of the Peveril went off with
the Fairbrothers to Lague. Great preparations were already afoot
there, for Asher had sent on a message ahead of them, and the maids
were bustling about, the fire was rekindled in the kitchen, and the
kettle was singing merrily. And first there was a mouthful of grog,
steaming hot, for every drenched and dripping seaman, with a taste of
toast to sweeten it. Then there was getting all the men into a change
of dry clothes in order that they might wait fo