me to fetch Eyebright. He looked very grave, she
thought.

When she asked eagerly, had papa come yet, Mr. Downs shook his head.
Perhaps they had stayed over in Malachi, to avoid the storm, he said,
and would get in later. He helped Eyebright into the boat, and rowed
to the island without saying another word. The wind had abated, but
the sea was still very rough, and long lines of white surf were
breaking on the rocks and beaches.

The kitchen looked very queer and crowded, for Mr. Downs had brought
down a mattress from upstairs, and made a bed on the floor, upon which
Eyebright's "man" was now sleeping. His wet clothes had been changed
for some dry ones belonging to Mr. Bright, and, altogether, he looked
far less wild and forlorn than he had appeared to be the night before,
though he evidently was seriously ill. Mrs. Downs didn't think his arm
was broken; but she couldn't be sure, and "he" was sent up the shore
to fetch Dr. Treat, the "natural bone-setter." There was no regular
doctor at Scrapplehead.

The natural bone-setter pronounced the arm not broken, but badly cut
and bruised, and the shoulder dislocated. He tied it up with a
liniment of his own invention, but both fever and rheumatism followed,
and for some days the stranger tossed in pain and delirium. Mrs. Downs
stayed on the island to nurse him, and both she and Eyebright had
their hands full, which was well, for it helped them to endure the
suspense of the next week as nothing else could have done.

It was not for some time, even after that dreadful week, that they
gave up the hope that Captain Jim had waited over in Malachi and would
appear with the next fair wind. Then a sloop put in, bringing the
certain news that he and Mr. Bright had sailed about two hours before
the storm began. After that, the only chance--and that a vague
one--was, that the boat might have landed on the coast farther below,
or, blown out to sea, been picked up by some passing ship. Days passed
in this hope. Whenever Eyebright could be spared for a moment, she
always ran to the cliff on the sea-side, in the hope of seeing a ship
sailing in with papa on board, or news of him. She never spoke as if
there was any doubt that he would come in the end, and Mrs. Downs,
dreading to cloud her hopefulness, replied always as confidently as
she could, and tried to be hopeful, too.

So a fortnight passed over the busy, anxious household, and poor
Eyebright--though her words were still courage