begin pouring the tea at once," she observed
coolly; "that's a feminine duty, you know, sir."

"I'm glad you're not afraid of me," I ventured to say.

"Afraid of you!" she replied, tittering. "No, indeed. It is _you_ who
are afraid of _me_. But I sha'n't hurt you, sir. You mind your
affairs, and I'll mind mine, and neither of us will come to grief.
Why, what a lot of books you've got! And such an easy-chair! It's just
splendid here, and so romantic, like the stories we read."

I repressed a groan, and allowed her, after supper, and she had done
as she said--washed the dishes--to take possession of my favorite book
and my favorite seat. She was tired with her adventures of the night
before, and soon asked where she was to sleep.

"In there," I answered, pointing to the door of a small bedroom which
opened out of the living-room.

She went in, and locked the door; and I went up to the lantern to see
that all was right, and to swear and tear around a little. Here was a
two-months'-long embarrassment! Here was all my old trouble back in a
new shape! What would my folks--what would the world say? Would they
believe the story about the wreck? Must my character suffer? Even at
the best, I must face this girl of the period from morning until
night. She had already discovered that I was bashful; she would take
advantage of it to torment me. What would the rude men say when they
came again with supplies?

Better measure tape in my father's store for a lot of teasing young
ladies whom I know, than dwell alone in a light-house with this
inconsiderate young woman!

"If ever I get out of this scrape, I will know when I am well off!" I
moaned, tearing my hair, and gazing wildly at the pitiless lights.

Suddenly a thought struck me. I had seen a small boat beached near the
scene of the wreck; it probably had belonged to the ship. I remained
in the lantern until it began to grow daybreak; then I crept down and
out, and ran to examine that boat. It was water-proof, and one of its
oars still remained. The waves were by this time comparatively calm. I
pushed the boat into the water, jumped in, rowed around to the other
side of the island, and that day I made thirty miles, with only one
oar, landing at the city dock at sunset. I was pretty well used-up I
tell you. But I had got away from that solitary female, who must have
spent a pensive day at Buncombe, in wondering what had become of me. I
reported at headquarters that night, r