she would not trust herself at the tiller.
Fortunately the boat steered 'very small,' and seizing my opportunity, I
set the tiller amidships, darted forward, cleared the end of the sprit
from its becket, and got back just in time to meet her as she began to
broach to, on the crest of a wave, which nearly half filled us with
water.

"I felt now as if we were safe; for no longer cumbered with a press of
sail, we shipped less water, and had a better chance to lay out our
course. Keeping Point Prime Light, as I supposed, well to starboard, I
headed up the bay, seeking to make the Blockhouse Light, when suddenly I
saw the coast dead ahead, and a bar, which must have been the West Bar,
which I dared not attempt to cross.

"I therefore bore away until I made a harbor, and running in, got aboard
a vessel, from whose captain I learned that we had mistaken the
Blockhouse Light for that on Point Prime, and had at last made Crapaud
River."

"Leaving the boat to be brought around by the next steamer, we drove up
to town the next day, and found, to our surprise, that we had crossed
close on the heels of that hurricane, which unroofed so many buildings,
and uprooted so many trees. I consider that passage as the most stirring
incident in my short life, gentlemen, and in the language of an old
story, 'my wife thinks so, too.'"

* * * * *

"And you may well think so, Mr. Kennedy," said Lund. "For all the money
in the banks of C. wouldn't tempt me to run the risk, the almost
certainty, of death, I mean, that you two did. Your wife is a brave
woman, sir, and there are very few men who would have borne themselves
as she did."

"Well, gentlemen, I see Pat is ready, and I must bid you good night.
Charley, I'll give the boys the list of things you want them to bring
out Monday. I suppose you'll get through in a couple of weeks, and come
back to civilized life. Good night."

Followed by a dozen expressions of adieu and goodwill, the travellers
entered the sleigh, and drove merrily off on the ice. Charley stood
still a moment alone in the moonlight, listening to the last tinkle of
the bells as they died away in the distance.

"What nonsense to stand here bareheaded, and getting cold! and yet it
seems as if something urged me to go back to the city. Yet, why should I
dread anything here? or rather, why should I fear anything with such a
prospect as I have before me?"

He turned, and entered the house; a