ve got to stay behind--you're wanted."

He stood a few seconds poising himself on the steps, drawing deep
breaths in preparation for the coming struggle. The moonlight smote upon
him. He lifted his face to it, and seemed to hesitate. Then suddenly he
turned to Fisher and laid impetuous hands upon his shoulders.

"Lookers-on see most of the game," he said. "And I've been one from the
first, though I own I thought at one time I should like to take a hand.
Go on and prosper, old boy! You've played a winning game all along, you
know. You're a better chap than I am, and it's you she really cares
for--always has been. That's how I came to know what I'd got to do. I
find it's easy--thank God!--it's very easy."

And with that he plunged down again into the breakers. The tide was on
the turn. The worst fury was over. The awful darkness had lifted.

Those who mutely watched him fancied they heard him laugh as he met the
crested waves.

X

Molly had spent a night of feverish restlessness. It was with a feeling
of relief that she answered a tap that came at her door in the early
dusk of the January morning; but she gave a start of surprise when she
saw Mrs. Langdale enter.

She started up on her elbow.

"Oh, what is it? It has been a fearful night. Has something dreadful
happened?" she cried.

Mrs. Langdale's usually merry face was pale and quiet. She went quickly
to the girl's side and took her hands into a tight clasp.

"My dear," she said, "Gerald Fisher asked me to come and tell you. There
has been a wreck in the night. A vessel ran on to the rocks. There were
three men on board. They could not reach them with an ordinary boat, and
the life-boat was not available."

"Go on!" gasped Molly, her eyes on her friend's face.

Mrs. Langdale went on, with an effort.

"Charlie Cleveland--dear fellow--went out to them with a rope. He
reached them, brought one safely back, returned for the
others--and--and--" Her voice failed. Her hands tightened upon Molly's;
they were very cold. "He managed to get to them again," she whispered,
"but--the rope wasn't long enough. He unlashed himself and bound them
together. They pulled them ashore--both living. But--he--was lost!"

The composure suddenly forsook Mrs. Langdale's face. She hid it on
Molly's pillow.

"Oh, Molly, that darling boy!" she cried, with a burst of tears. "And
they say he went to his death--laughing."

"He would," Molly said, in a strange voice. "I always knew