I'm expectin' my boy to-night,
young woman. I'm goin' to the beach now to wait for him,--for Derrick."

In spite of the queer old face peering out from the yellow sun-bonnet,
with its flabby wrinkles and nut-cracker jaws, there was a fine,
delicate meaning in the smile with which she waved her hand down to the
stormy beach.

"What's that?" said Doctor Dennis, starting up, and holding his hand
behind his ear. His sandy face grew pale.

"I heard nothing," said Mary.

The next moment she caught a dull thud in the watery distance, as if
some pulse of the night had throbbed feverishly.

Bow-legged Phil started to his feet.

"It's the gun of the Chief! Van Note's goin' down!" he cried, with a
horrible oath, and hobbled off, followed by the other men.

"His little brother Benny be on her," said Joe. "May God have mercy on
their souls!"

He had climbed like a cat to the rafters, and thrown down two or three
cables and anchors, and, putting them over his shoulders, started
soberly for the beach, stopping to look at Miss Defourchet, crouched on
the floor of the store.

"You'd best see after her, Doctor. Ropes is all we can do for 'em. No
boat ud live in that sea, goin' out."

Going down through the clammy fog, his feet sinking in the marsh with
the weight he carried, he could see red lights in the mist, gathering
towards shore.

"It's the wrackers goin' down to be ready for mornin'."

And in a few moments stood beside them a half-dozen brawny men, with
their legs and chests bare. The beach on which they stood glared white
in the yellow light, giving the effect of a landscape in Polar seas. One
or two solitary headlands loomed gloomily up, covered with snow. In
front, the waters at the edge of the sea broke at their feet in long,
solemn, monotonous swells, that reverberated like thunder,--a death-song
for the work going on in the chaos beyond.

"Thar's no use doin' anything out thar," said one of the men, nodding
gloomily to a black speck in the foaming hell. "She be on the bar this
ten minutes, an' she 's a mean-built craft, that Chief."

"Couldn't a boat run out from the inlet?" timidly ventured an eager,
blue-eyed little fellow.

"No, Snap," said Joe, letting his anchor fall, and clearing his throat.
"Well, there be the end of old Ben, hey? Be yer never tired, yer cruel
devil?" turning with a sudden fierceness to the sly foam creeping lazily
about his feet.

There was a long silence.

"Bowlegs tried it, b