the orphans, and then they turned and cursed the sea aloud.

At this moment a dark little figure shot past them all, by the
bewildered man, and dashed with a shriek into the foam. What did she do?
How did she do it? What could be done? A woman--a little woman--her baby
only one month old--Betty! She caught the sinking hand, the drowning
head--she never knew how. A dozen men plunged in now. Spectators who had
not wet their feet during all that horrible scene swam now in the
whirlpool for the woman's sake, and for the shame she wrought upon them.
Brawny arms and steady feet bore her back. Her little hand, rigid,
clutched her husband by the collar of his shirt.

Scud was carried quickly up and laid upon the piazza. An ugly bruise was
upon his forehead.

The wind died down. The rain came in white torrents. Betty stood in the
deluge and shielded her husband automatically. The children, most of
them too small to know the reason why, lifted up their voices and wept.

"Father," said Betty, softly, "why don't ye speak to me? Dearie, dearie
Scud. I saved ye. Hain't ye nothing to say to me, Scud?"

"You'd better go into the house," said some one. "Leave Scud to us
awhile." For in truth not a man or woman of us but believed that Scud
was dead.

"You jess get us to a kitchen fire," said Betty, quietly, "and leave him
to _me_."

And it was repeated with many a trembling lip far down the coast that
night that Scud would live.

* * * * *

It was the morning of my departure, and it had come by the last express
the night before. It had been kept a profound secret, for we would not
risk a cruel disappointment. Scud had rowed to town with a full fare of
fish, and Salt was with him, doing the rowing. We left word that they
should come to the house as soon as they had put up their dory. A
peremptory message was sent to Betty to come over immediately to do some
work. A few neighbors happened to drop in. There might have been a dozen
or so in all. My cousin did not go into town that day. He said he wanted
to see me off. Betty came a little early, and was set to scrubbing the
pantry floor.

But Scud, a hero? He had forgotten all about it now. He was the same old
fellow, just as easy, just as jolly, just as careless. Scud wasn't at
all spoiled by what had happened. He was as comfortable as the sea,
this very morning. Who would have suspected the passing of a grand storm
upon the hearts of either? Scud'