o without Robert?" said Mrs. Trafton, her defiant
mood changing, at her husband's departure, to an outburst of grief. "He
was all I had to live for."

"You have your husband," suggested Ben Bence doubtfully.

"My husband!" she repeated drearily. "You know how little company he is
for me and how little he does to make me comfortable and happy. I will
never forgive him for this day's work."

Ben Bence, who was a just man, ventured to represent that Trafton did
not foresee the result of his action; but, in the sharpness of her
bereavement, Mrs. Trafton would find no excuse for him.

Herbert, too, looked pale and distressed. He had a genuine attachment
for Robert, whose good qualities he was able to recognize and
appreciate, even if he was a fisherman's nephew.

He, too, thought sorrowfully of his poor friend, snatched from life and
swept by the cruel and remorseless sea to an ocean grave. He, too, had
his object of resentment.

But for George Randolph, he reflected, Robert would now be alive and
well, and he resolved to visit George with his severest reproaches.

While all were plunged in a similar grief a strange thing happened.

The door of the cabin was closed by John Trafton as he went out.

Suddenly there was heard a scratching at the door, and a sound was heard
as of a dog trying to excite attention.

"It must be my dog Dash," said Herbert. "I wonder how he found me out?"

He advanced to the door and opened it. Before him stood a dog, but it
was not Dash. It was a large black dog, with an expression of
intelligence almost human. He had in his mouth what appeared to be a
scrap of writing paper. This he dropped on the ground when he saw that
he had attracted Herbert's attention.

"What does this mean?" thought Herbert in great surprise, "and where
does this dog come from?"

He stooped and picked up the paper, greatly to the dog's apparent
satisfaction. It was folded in the middle and contained, written in
pencil, the following message, which, not being directed to any one in
particular, Herbert felt at liberty to read:

"Feel no anxiety about Robert Coverdale. He is safe!"

Herbert read the message, the dog uttered a quick bark of satisfaction,
and, turning, ran down the cliff to the beach.

Herbert was so excited and delighted at the news of his friend's safety
that he gave no further attention to the strange messenger, but hurried
into the cabin.

"Mrs. Trafton--Mr. Bence!" he exclaimed, "Bob is s