of possible escape for himself came over him. Why
should two drown in place of one? He had but to let go this weight and
strike out. Why not?

Why not indeed? This man held to no altruistic creed. His doctrines,
had he expounded them quite coolly, would have claimed that
self-preservation was the first law of Nature, and that Nature was the
best guide. But now, with no time for reason, by the flashlight of
instinct, intuition, inheritance,--call it what you will,--he found
himself absolutely physically unable to let his load slip. With this
stranger he would live or die, most likely die!

With the last thought, he felt a numbness creep over him. The limbs
refused to obey the will. The will itself was paralyzed. Blank
darkness fell around; the end had come.

He awoke to consciousness with a painful gasp, to find himself
stretched out on the sand, and to hear Dr. Cricket's voice sounding
far away, saying: "He'll be all right soon. Keep on working his arms,
Ben! Here comes Marsden with the brandy and warm blankets." Then
followed a vague sensation of swallowing fire, and a blissful warmth
creeping along his veins as though Nature had taken him to her heart
once more.

Languidly, he unclosed his eyes. What did it all mean: the waves
roaring close at hand; the driftwood fire burning hard by; the circle
of anxious faces? Through his dim senses ran the lines long familiar,
never till now fully realized:

"The tall masts flickered as they lay afloat
The crowds, the temples wavered, and the shore."

What made everything wobble about like that? Was he dying? What had
brought him here, anyhow? Then, with a rush, it all came back. Raising
himself on one elbow, he looked about inquiringly. "Where is she?" he
asked, and fell back exhausted by the effort of speech.

"Here and safe," answered a woman's voice which he recognized as that
of Winifred Anstice. "The captain and crew are saved too."

"Could they all swim?" Flint questioned feebly.

"Hold your tongue!" cried Dr. Cricket, with more good sense than good
manners. "Your business now is to save your strength. Leave questions
for later in the day. If that coffee is done, Ben, pass it round. We
will all have a pull at it."

The commonplace of the daily routine is a blessed relief after the
overstrained excitement of a great catastrophe. We eat and drink, and
life seems real once more. Even Dr. Cricket was drawn for a moment
from his patient's side to the ci