E TEMPEST

The wind was so violent that Ned dared not stand erect. He crossed on
hands and knees the brief stretch that separated the tent from the lower
end of the island.

The buttonwood was still standing--much to his relief--and the canoes
were so far uninjured, though the gale was knocking them together pretty
forcibly.

Bracing himself against the buttonwood, Ned turned the lantern in all
directions, and soon discovered the tree which had caused such alarm by
its fall. It lay prostrate on the other island, but as a channel barely
half a dozen yards wide separated the two, it was not surprising that
the crash should have sounded very near.

The storm still raged with unabated fury. The lightning played
incessantly over the heavens, and the thunder was continuous.

Ned took advantage of a lull in the wind to start on his return, but he
had scarcely left the tree when the lantern slipped from his hand, and
was extinguished by the fall. He found it after a short search, and as
he could see plainly enough without a light, he pushed on toward the
tent, bending his body forward to escape the cutting rain.

A sudden fierce blast of wind compelled him to crouch close to the
ground, and just as he rose a jagged flash of lightning turned the
blackness into a purple glare. Ned's eyes happened to be resting on the
channel between the two islands, and in that brief instant of light he
saw a boat gliding swiftly down the current, cutting gracefully through
the great waves that rose to meet it.

On the rear seat, paddle in hand, sat a man. A dark slouch hat, pulled
far down, concealed his features. He seemed perfectly at home, and in no
wise discomfited by the storm that was raging around him.

As the vivid light faded away Ned ran back to the buttonwood tree, and
watched the blurred shape of the boat as it came down the channel. He
breathed a sigh of relief when it passed out from the islands and
continued on through the gloom, for his first thought had been that some
danger menaced the camp.

Why a man should voluntarily expose himself to such a pitiless storm,
and at such an hour of the night, was a mystery too deep for Ned's
comprehension. It was certain, at all events, that the stranger was
abroad for no good purpose.

Either his errand was in no wise connected with the Jolly Rovers, or
else he had passed close by the tent without seeing it--even when the
flash of lightning made the night as bright as noonday.