no holding-ground at the bottom.

"There is only one thing we can do, John," said Paul, desperately, after
he had fully examined the situation of the boat.

"Say on, then," replied John; "I am ready for anything that you say."

"We must get up the anchor, and leave this place."

"Up it is, then."

"But this is an awful bad time, and an awful bad place to hoist a sail."

"Let her drive; we shall go it well enough. It blows like
all-possessed: but what's the use of having a life boat, if you can't go
out in her when it blows?"

"Stand by the fore halliards, then," cried Paul. "The sail is
close-reefed, just as we used it yesterday."

The foresail was hoisted, and slammed with tremendous fury in the fresh
gale. The boys then grasped the cable, and it required the full effort
of their united strength to weigh the anchor; but the task was
accomplished at last, and Paul leaped to his place at the helm. Laying
her course parallel with the shore of the island, the Fawn dashed over
the furious waves, within ten rods' distance from the breakers on the
beach. In a few moments she passed beyond the reach of this peril, and
rushed out among the billows of the open bay.

It was a fearful night even for strong men to venture upon the stormy
sea; it was doubly perilous for these two boys; yet they had no choice,
for to avoid a greater danger they had chosen the less. But the Fawn
behaved in a very gallant manner, and her noble bearing promised to
achieve all that could be done for the safety of the young fishermen.
Notwithstanding the violence of the gale, she rested buoyantly on the
top of the waves, and did not seem to labor in her course.

"Do you know where you are, Paul?" asked his brother, after they had sat
in silence for half an hour.

"Certainly I do; there is South Point light dead ahead."

"Yes; but there is any quantity of rocks between us and the light."

"I know that; but I know where they are just as well as I know where the
kitchen is, when I get into the house. Don't talk to me now, John; go
below and turn in, if you like."

"Don't you want me?"

"No."

Paul did not think that John could act upon this suggestion, in such a
storm and in the midst of so many perils; but he did, and as the young
skipper heard no more from him, he concluded he was asleep.

"What a fellow!" thought Paul. "He could sleep in the midst of an
earthquake or a tornado. Well, let him sleep; he is tired enough."

The Fawn das