ning the subtle aromas of the wind, to
distinguish those that were harmless or beneficent from those that
warned, those that threatened, those that were morose, savage,
malignant, those that piped a note of madness and meant a hurricane.
Nor did the fog in itself appear to her very formidable. To be sure,
she had never known a thicker one; but the Lord Proprietor (saving his
presence) had probably exaggerated its terror. He was--let this excuse
be made for him--a landsman, comparatively new to the Islands.

Probably Mr. Fossell and Mr. Pope and the Vicar took the same view. The
news of the wreck had excited them, and they were offering to accompany
Sir Caesar and Mr. Rogers to St. Hugh's Town, on the chance of some
information.

"And we had best go with them, my dear," suggested Miss Gabriel to Mrs.
Pope. (Their houses stood side by side and contiguous, on a gentle rise
at the foot of Garrison Hill, where the peninsular of New Town broadens
out and New Town itself melts into St. Hugh's.)

Mrs. Fossel begged them to wait and keep her company until the
gentlemen returned. "It is impossible," she urged as an inducement,
"that Selina can go on making this noise forever."

But Miss Gabriel had taken her decision, and from a decision Miss
Gabriel was not easily turned.

"My dear," said she, reaching for her cloak, "the gentlemen may not
return until goodness knows when, and I have a prejudice against late
hours."

They started in a body. The fog, to be sure, was a deal worse than ever
Miss Gabriel could have credited. Still, the gentlemen using their
lanterns and tapping to right and left with their sticks, they found
the hard causeway, and blundered along it towards St. Hugh's, the
ladies with their shawls drawn over their heads and their heads held
down against the drifting wall of moisture.

They had made their way thus for about four hundred yards--that is to
say, about a third of the length of the causeway--when suddenly the fog
ahead of them became luminous, and they perceived torches waving.

"Mr. Rogers! Is that Mr. Rogers?" called a voice.

"Ay, ay, men!" Mr. Rogers hailed in answer, recognising his coastguard.
"I am coming--fast as I can," he added, having at that moment run into
a wall.

"A wreck, sir!"

"Ay! Where is it?"

"Somewhere beyond St. Ann's, sir, as we make it--out towards the Monk.
There was a gun fired, and Dick, here, thinks as he saw the lighthouse
send up a signal; but lights there's