“What? What, Auntie? I didn't hear anything.”
“I thought I did. Sounded as if somebody was—and they are! Listen!”
Emily listened. From without, above the noise of the wind and rain and surf, came a shout.
“Hi!” screamed a high-pitched voice. “Hi! Let me in. I—I'm drownin'.”
Thankful rushed to the door and, exerting all her strength, pushed it open against the raging storm.
“There's nobody here,” she faltered.
“But—but there is, Auntie. I heard someone. I—”
She stopped, for, out of the drenched darkness staggered a figure, the figure of a man. He plunged across the threshold, tripped over the mat and fell in a heap upon the floor.
Emily shrieked. Mrs. Barnes pulled the door shut and ran to the prostrate figure.
“Who is it?” she asked. “Who IS it? Are you hurt?”