Save for the incoherent cries of Uncle Zenas, no word was spoken until the bow of the little boat had been hauled up on the rocks, and Captain Eph leaped ash.o.r.e.

His clothing was covered with ice; his hair weighted with snow, and his face so disguised by the mask of frost that even Uncle Zenas might have failed to recognize him under other circ.u.mstances; but he lifted Sidney in his arms, as if it was the lad instead of himself who had performed the bravest of brave deeds, and, kissing him again and again, said in a half-whisper:

"Thank G.o.d that I've got your face next to mine once more!"

"He has been good to let you come back to me," Sidney said reverentially, and the greetings were at an end.

"Bear a hand, Uncle Zenas, an' help get these poor fellows into the tower. Two of 'em are well nigh dead, an' the others ain't much better, though I reckon the work at the oars has done 'em a world of good."

Then, and only then, did Sidney understand that the keepers had rescued four sailors, two of whom were huddled in the bottom of the dory as if life had already departed.

It was as if Uncle Zenas had the strength of half a dozen men. He lifted one of the unconscious sailors in his big arms, as if handling a baby, and ran across the slippery rocks like a goat, depositing his burden in the kitchen and getting back to the dory before the second sufferer had been taken out.

"Leave him to me," the cook said as he raised the sailor in his arms, literally forcing Captain Eph to release his hold. "I'm feelin' so mighty good 'cause you've come back alive that I've got to do somethin'

out of the common run, or take the chances of bustin'."

Sidney could do nothing more than help Captain Eph and Mr. Peters drag the boat across the rocks to the little boat-house, and when she was properly secured the three entered the kitchen.

Two of the survivors of the wreck were in front of the fire drinking hot coffee, while Uncle Zenas was stripping the clothing from the others, and the cook's first words showed that he intended to take entire charge of the rescue from that point.

"Sonny," he cried, "run up-stairs an' strip all the beds; bring the clothes here, an' then help me rub these poor creeters down. Ephraim Downs, you an' Sammy Peters are to get out of them wet duds jest as quick as you know how, an' don't you dare let me see you liftin' a finger till you're in dry clothes. I've had trouble enough about you this day, without your gettin' all drawed up with rheumatiz jest for spite. You're enough to wear a man down to skin an' bones, an' I've come to that pa.s.s where I can't stand any more of your capers."

All was bustle and excitement during the next hour. Sidney tried to obey promptly all the cook's orders; but at times he became so confused as to hardly be aware of what he was doing.

The two survivors who had a.s.sisted in working the boat were in no need of care after they had been supplied with dry clothing; but it was necessary to rub the others vigorously before they showed signs of returning consciousness.

Within an hour, however, the rescued men were lying in the beds which had been made up on the floor of the kitchen, and Captain Eph sat in the rocking-chair before the stove, with Sidney in his arms.

"You're a brave man, Captain Eph," the lad said as he clasped the keeper's big, brown hand, "and I'm mighty proud of you."

"That's a good deal more pay than I deserve for doin' what little was in my power, Sonny, dear."

"Were all the rest of the crew drowned?"

"Ay Sonny, sixteen of 'em either froze or went under before we got there, an' two of these couldn't have lasted another half hour; but we won't talk about that jest now. From the time Sammy an' me started, I kept sayin' to myself that when we got back I'd take you in my arms, as I've got you near an' hold you jest as long as you could stand it, for you're gettin' to be a good part of my life, laddie."

CHAPTER X.

THE RESCUE.

Uncle Zenas grumbled because Captain Eph insisted on holding Sidney in his arms, instead of lying down to rest as it seemed he ought to have done; but to all his protests, uttered in whispers lest the rescued men who were sleeping on the floor be disturbed, the old keeper replied:

"I don't need any coddlin', Uncle Zenas, for what I've done this day hasn't tuckered me out a little bit. Besides, I'm restin' with Sonny in my arms, a good deal more'n I would alone in bed."

Sidney had a vague idea that he was much too large a boy to be thus held as if he were a baby; but he made no protest against being thus petted, because it could be plainly seen that it gave the old keeper real pleasure.

After a short time Uncle Zenas proposed that the strangers be left alone, lest their rest be disturbed by the conversation, and the crew of Carys' Ledge light went into the watch-room, where Mr. Peters had already built a fire in the small stove.

The storm raged as severely as at any other time during the day; but to Sidney there was no longer any menace in the howling of the wind, while the beating of the snow against the windows only served to remind him how cosy and comfortable it was inside the tower, for with the return of the two keepers from their perilous voyage he had forgotten his fears.

"It doesn't seem possible that you could have kept the boat right side up in those terrible waves," the lad said at length, and Mr. Peters replied:

"There's a good deal of difference between a dory and a boat with a keel, Sonny. In almost any other kind of a craft I'll allow that it mightn't have been possible; but it was a mighty tough pull at the best."

"All it needed was a clear head an' plenty of grit, Sonny," Captain Eph added. "We were stripped down to it till we had to work or freeze, an'

so we kept her goin', but more'n once I made up my mind that we'd have to turn back in spite of the hankerin' to give them poor fellows a lift.

Sammy ain't overly fond of laborin', as a general thing; but I must say he pulled away this forenoon as if he was a glutton at it, an' time an'

time again it seemed as if he reg'larly lifted the dory out'er the water with his oars."

"That's when I was tryin' to keep myself warm," Mr. Peters said with a laugh. "The hardest part of it for me was keepin' the snow out'er my eyes; twice they got froze up, what with the sleet an' spray, an' I had all I could do to pry 'em open without losin' stroke."

"Was the vessel where you believed, sir?" Sidney asked.

"Ah, Sonny. She'd struck the shoal jest as I allowed, an' had driven up on the rocks till the fo'c'sle deck was well out'er water, else never one of the crew would have lived to talk about it. She was a big barkentine--nigh to a thousand tons, I should say--breakin' up mighty fast when we got there, with only four men left on deck, an' they so covered with ice an' snow that you wouldn't have taken 'em for human beings. They had a small gun, sich as is used for signalin', lashed to the capstan; but were past firin' it when we hove in sight."

"How was it possible to get on board?" Sidney asked.

"That was what we couldn't do, Sonny. The cap'n of the vessel was the only one able to give us any help, an' all we could do was to run down under the lee of the wreck, trustin' to their jumpin' aboard as we pa.s.sed, for it stands to reason we couldn't hold the dory in any one place many seconds, except at the cost of havin' her stove."

"Now don't you think, Sonny, that it didn't need some mighty fine work to do what Cap'n Eph's tellin' about so quiet-like," Mr. Peters interrupted. "There ain't another man on this whole coast who could have done the trick, an' I'm willin' to confess that my heart was in my mouth pretty much all the time."

"Sammy did his full share of the work, Sonny, an' did it like a little man," the old keeper said, continuing his story as if there had not been any interruption. "The first time we ran down, the captain of the wrecked vessel tossed one of the men aboard us, for the poor fellow was so far gone he couldn't help himself. The second trip we got another pa.s.senger in the same way, an' the third venture, which was nigh bein'

the last of our work, owin' to an ugly sea catchin' us when we were within four or five feet of the wreck, the other two men jumped aboard."

"An' by that time we had a full cargo, I can tell you," Mr. Peters said, determined to relate his share of the story. "We had shipped a barrel of water while gettin' down there, an' when both the men jumped into the dory at the same minute, she had all any craft could swim under."

"The two men who had life enough left in 'em to bear a hand, bailed the water out while Sammy an' I pulled at the oars the best we knew how,"

Captain Eph continued, "an' when she was lightened a bit, they got out the second pair of oars. Of course the wind helped us mightily, when we was homeward bound; but at the same time considerable work was needed to fetch her in safe. That's all there was to the rescue, Sonny, an' I reckon Sammy an' I are feelin' a good deal better than if we'd hung 'round here listenin' to the gun without liftin' a hand."

"You're brave men, the bravest that ever lived, as Uncle Zenas said this forenoon," Sidney whispered, and Captain Eph looked up quickly at his second a.s.sistant as he asked sharply:

"What right have you got to fill Sonny's head with sich stuff as that, Zenas Stubbs? I've seen you do plenty of bigger things in front of Petersburg, an' never yet felt called upon to say you was so terribly brave!"

"It's n.o.body's business what I said to Sonny when you two idjuts was away," Uncle Zenas said snappishly. "I didn't tell him then what I will now--that you're both the most pig-headed, opinionated old sh.e.l.l-backs that ever wheedled the Government into appointin' 'em to the charge of a light-house!"

Having thus expressed himself so forcibly, the cook went down-stairs as if suddenly attacked by a fit of the sulks, and Captain Eph whispered in Sidney's ear:

"Now wouldn't you think he was a cross-grained old curmudgeon? Wa'al, he ain't, an' his heart is jest as big as his body. It's what you might call second nature for him to tear 'round when we don't get into the kitchen the very minute he has the food on the table; but, bless you, neither Sammy nor I pay any attention to what he says."

"It's gettin' well on to sunset," Mr. Peters suggested, "an' I was so mixed up this mornin' that I ain't willin' to swear the work in the lantern was done 'cordin' to the rules an' regerlations. It won't do any harm to have a look at the lamp."

"Go ahead, Sammy, though I'm allowin' that we did our duty as keepers before we started out to help them poor creeters," and Captain Eph followed his first a.s.sistant, while Sidney kept close at the latter's heels.

So far as the lad could judge, there was no decrease in the strength of the wind, nor could he see anything to betoken the end of the gale, yet Captain Eph confidently announced that the "backbone of the blow was broken," and the weather would be fair next morning.