"He is gone," John answered.
"Is this you?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Cling to me."
"I will. We will survive or perish together."
Then she became silent, and the night grew blacker, while the storm howled; but the waves receded with the ebbing tide, and the broken hulk remained fast fixed in the sands. The poor girl shivered all through that night and clung to her preserver. She did not weep at the loss of her father, for the horror of their situation dried the fountains of grief. All night long the warring elements raged about the remaining castaways, who clung with the tenacity of despair to the wreck.
CHAPTER V.
JOHN STEVENS' CHARGE.
The fair wind blew, the white foam flew,