incourt's. It looked like Oily Dave, but Phil said last
night that he was away at the fishing," Miles answered, as he
turned back into the store.

"So he was," said Katherine. "There was the usual legend in his
dirty windows that all drinks must wait until he came back, which
is a fearful temptation to temperance people to wish that he would
never come back at all."

"His sort is sure to turn up safe and sound, no matter how great
the danger; it is the best and worthiest that never come back,"
Miles said, so gloomily that Katherine took instant alarm.

"What do you mean? Has any bad news come?" she asked, gripping at
the rough deal counter for support, and wondering how she would be
able to bear it if he said yes.

"Mr. Selincourt went down to Seal Cove this morning and looked in
here on his way back," said Miles. "He wanted to see you, but we
told him that he could not; then he said that there was a good bit
of worry about the boats. One was blown clean into the swamps last
night, and will have to stick there until the weather is fine
enough for her to be towed off, and another came ashore, badly
damaged, at the fish sheds; and he is afraid that some of the other
boats may have been driven on to the rocks."

"The boats right out in the bay would be safe, wouldn't they?"
Katherine asked, with fear in her eyes.

"You never can say what will be safe in weather such as we had last
night," Miles answered; then he moved restlessly towards the door
of the store again, and stood looking out, eager to catch the man
whose boat was moored under the alders on the opposite bank of the
river, and to learn from him if there was news from the sea.

Katherine sat down suddenly. It was as if someone had already been
in to say that a boat was wrecked. Disasters which were expected
always came, so she told herself, and sat leaning her head against
a box of soap, the smell of which ever after suggested shipwreck to
her.

Ten minutes went past, then twenty minutes, and nearly half an hour
had gone before Miles cried out excitedly: "Here he comes down the
path; Mr. Selincourt is there too, without any hat, and it is
raining hard! Yes, it is Oily Dave, and there goes his hand up to
his mouth, just as if he were drinking!"

Katherine was at work by this time, packing stores into boxes,
bags, and bundles, which would have to be carried over the long
portage next day; but she left her task now and came round to the
door, whe