truck out for the
shore, guided by the thunder of the surf they had listened to for twelve
long hours, as it broke against the beach, and brought no help on its
receding billows. Soon Warwick was the only one who struggled, for
Moor's strength was gone, and he clung half conscious to the spar,
tossing from wave to wave, a piteous plaything for the sea.

"I see a light!--they must take you in--hold fast, I'll save you for the
little wife at home."

Moor heard but two words, "wife" and "home;" strained his dim eyes to
see the light, spent his last grain of strength to reach it, and in the
act lost consciousness, whispering--"She will thank you," as his head
fell against Warwick's breast and lay there, heavy and still. Lifting
himself above the spar, Adam lent the full power of his voice to the
shout he sent ringing through the storm. He did not call in vain, a
friendly wind took the cry to human ears, a relenting wave swept them
within the reach of human aid, and the boat's crew, pausing
involuntarily, saw a hand clutch the suspended oar, a face flash up from
the black water, and heard a breathless voice issue the command--

"Take in this man! he saved you for your wives, save him for his."

One resolute will can sway a panic-stricken multitude; it did so then.
The boat was rocking in the long swell of the sea; a moment and the
coming wave would sweep them far apart. A woman sobbed, and as if moved
by one impulse four sturdy arms clutched and drew Moor in. While
loosening his friend Warwick had forgotten himself, and the spar was
gone. He knew it, but the rest believed that they left the strong man a
chance of life equal to their own in that overladen boat. Yet in the
memories of all who caught that last glimpse of him there long remained
the recollection of a dauntless face floating out into the night, a
steady voice calling through the gale, "A good voyage, comrades!" as he
turned away to enter port before them.

Wide was the sea and pitiless the storm, but neither could dismay the
unconquerable spirit of the man who fought against the elements as
bravely as if they were adversaries of mortal mould, and might be
vanquished in the end. But it was not to be; soon he felt it, accepted
it, turned his face upward toward the sky, where one star shone, and
when Death whispered "Come!" answered as cheerily as to that other
friend, "I am ready." Then with a parting thought for the man he had
saved, the woman he had loved, t