quite away. After that all
was oblivion.

When I woke to consciousness I was in my own bed, with my father and
Deborah Teague sitting near me. At first everything seemed hazy, then
things became more real, until all the events of the storm flashed
before my mind.

"How did I come here?" I asked.

"God helped us to save you, Roger, my boy," said my father.

"How?" I asked, faintly.

"I got impatient of your being away so long, and so one of the other
lads succeeded in getting on the rock, while I, wanting to be near you,
followed him. I got to the long prong in time to see you swept off the
deck."

"And then, father?"

"Then I went down to the broad ledge and found you both unconscious.
You had been stunned by the awful force with which you were hurled on
the rock."

"And she, father, the--the--one who was with me?"

"We got you both in the boat after awhile. God only knows the
difficulty we had, for the storm rose every minute. Had the rock been
further out at sea I don't think we could have weathered it; but the
gridiron point broke the force of the wind just a little!"

"And is she well, father?"

"A great deal bruised, my boy, and very weak, but she'll recover."

"Who is she?" I asked after being silent for a few moments.

"Her name is Ruth Morton; she is my old friend's only child," answered
my father, slowly.

I turned on my pillow wearily. I was tired and sore, and wanted rest.

"That's right," said my father, "go to sleep again, I'll send the
doctor to you, and he, together with Mrs. Teague, will soon make you
well."

He left the room as he spoke. Deborah looked keenly at me.

"You'll soon git well, Maaster Roger," she said presently.

"I think I shall," I replied, "I am far from dead yet."

"Iss, iss," she repeated, "you'll soon git well, Maaster Roger, but old
Deborah was right. The storm and the stranger comed together, ded'n
um?"

I did not answer.

"Maaster Roger must be of good heart," she continued, "for he ain't a
seed the end of this ere matter yet."

I asked her to explain herself, but she would not. She sat silently by
my bedside until the doctor came and gave me a sleeping draught, after
which I remembered nothing for a long while.

I lay in my bed for more than a week. During that time my mother came
to see me twice, while Wilfred came only once. Evidently they did not
care much about my recovery. I was grieved at this, for in my heart I
loved them sincere