or want of nails, to make strong and secure.

Robert's heart beat with quiet alarm as he realized that there was small
chance of his frail craft holding together till he reached shore.

The danger was hardly realized before it came.

A strong wave wrenched apart the timbers, and Robert Coverdale found
himself, without warning, spilled into the sea, a mile and a half from
land.

Instinctively he struck out and began to swim, but the distance was
great and he was impeded by his clothes.

Looking neither to the right nor to the left, but only straight ahead,
he swam with all the strength there was left to him, but he found
himself weakening after a while and gave himself up for lost.

CHAPTER XIV

THE HERMIT OF THE CLIFF

The last thing that Robert could remember was the singing of the waters
in his ears and a weight as of lead that bore him downward with a force
which he felt unable to resist.

But at the critical moment, when the doors of death seemed to be
swinging open to admit him, he was firmly seized by a slender, muscular
arm, extended from a boat shaped somewhat like an Indian canoe and rowed
by a tall, thin man with white hair and a long white beard.

In the dusk our hero had not seen the boat nor known that help was so
near at hand. But the occupant of the boat had, from a distance, seen
the going to pieces of the raft, and appreciated the peril of the brave
swimmer, and paddled his boat energetically toward him just in time to
rescue him when already insensible.

Pale and with closed eyes lay Robert in the bottom of the boat. The old
man--for so he appeared--rather anxiously opened the boy's shirt and
placed his hand over his heart. An expression of relief appeared on his
face.

"He will do," he said sententiously and turned his attention to the
boat.

Half a mile from the cliff on which stood the fisherman's cabin was
another, rising to a greater height.

To this the stranger directed his boat. He fastened it and then, raising
our hero in his arms, walked toward the cliff.

There was a cavity as wide as a door, but less in height, through which
he passed, lowering his head as he entered. Inside the opening steadily
widened and became higher. This cavity was about ten feet above the
sandy beach and was reached by a ladder.

On he passed, guided amid the darkness by a light from a lantern hanging
from the roof. The front portion of the cavern seemed like a hall,
through which a narrow