held the salaried posts of organist, organ-blower,
pew-opener, and parish-clerk. Of the women, one was Tamsin Dearlove.
It is noteworthy that Caleb spent his morning at "The Bower."

Service was over, and Tamsin was rowing homewards. She was alone;
for Troy was not the Dearloves' parish, and the Twins attended their
own church--being, indeed, churchwardens. As she pulled quietly
upwards, a shade of thought rested on her pretty face. I do not know
of what she was thinking; and may add that if I did, I should not
tell you. I would as lief rob a church.

She had passed the jetties, and was pulling her left paddle to turn
the corner off Kit's House, when a flash crossed the heaven from
behind her, and in an instant followed that rending explosion which
(at different distances) has been twice presented to the reader, and
with pardonable pride; for the story of Troy has now a catastrophe as
well as episodes, and is vindicated as a theme.

As soon as the throbbing of the atmosphere and the buzzing in her
ears began to die away, two swift thoughts crossed her brain.
Oddly enough, the first was for the safety of Kit's House.
She glanced over her shoulder. A mere film of smoke hung over the
creek, and to the right of this she saw the house standing, seemingly
unharmed. Then came the second thought--

If the explosion came from the creek, where the light smoke hung,
there would be a wave.

She half turned on the thwart and looked intently.

Yes. It was curling towards her, widening from the creek's mouth,
and arching with a hateful crest. On it came, a dark and glossy
wall; and she knew that if it broke or caught her boat in the least
aslant, she must be either swamped or overset.

With a sound that was half a sob and half a prayer she grasped her
paddles and, still looking over her shoulder, gently moved the boat's
nose to face it.

A moment, and it rose above her, hissing death; another, and the boat
was caught high in air, tottered on the summit, and then with a
shiver shot swiftly down into the trough beyond--safe.

A second wave followed, and a third, but with less peril. She was
still tossed, but as she saw that mass of water hurled upon the
shore, and sweeping angrily but with broken force towards the
harbour, she knew that she could thank Heaven for her escape.

She pulled towards the creek. Already the air was clear; but as she
glanced again her eye missed something familiar. And then it struck
h