"Then I'm goin' to leave you in charge while Uncle Zenas an' I go after Sammy. It ain't anyways likely we shall be away till after sunset; but there's allers the chance; an' no one can say how fast his raft may be travelin'."

"You don't want me in the boat with you?" Sidney asked tremulously.

"No, Sonny, an' for two mighty good reasons. The first is that it's goin' to blow hard inside of an hour, an' I'll need Uncle Zenas at one pair of oars. Then agin, the place is not to be left alone, no matter what straits we are in. Sammy would be the first to say we mustn't try to help him if it can't be done without takin' the risk of showin' no light at sunset. You'll be safe on the ledge, an' that's what I'm thinkin' about."

The temptation to beg that he might go to the rescue with Captain Eph, leaving the cook to care for the light, was very great; but he succeeded in holding his peace, knowing that it was not for him, at such a time, to make any change in the plan the keeper had formed.

"I'm allowin' we may have to pull eight or ten miles before catchin' the poor fellow, an' it'll be hard work in a heavy sea, so Uncle Zenas must do his share."

It was not necessary to spend any time warning the second a.s.sistant of what had been learned. Uncle Zenas was at the head of the cove when they pulled in, and in the fewest possible words Captain Eph made him acquainted with the situation.

"Get in, Uncle Zenas. Sonny will take care of the light, if so be we're called on to go further than now seems likely."

"An' I sent the poor fellow off without any breakfast!" the cook said tearfully, as he clambered aboard the boat with a certain eagerness which told how anxious he was to have a share in the rescue. "If I had only been half-way decent when he asked for somethin' to eat!"

"Keep your upper lip stiff, Sonny!" Captain Eph cried as he pulled the dory around. "By stayin' to care for the light you're doin' a good deal more towards findin' Sammy, than if you went with us in the boat. You can watch us best by goin' inter the lantern with the gla.s.ses."

"Be sure to get your dinner, Sonny," Uncle Zenas cried in a mournful tone. "Everything is on the stove, an' what you can't eat had better be put back in the pantry. If I could only give poor Sammy his share an' my own with it, how relieved I'd be!"

By this time the dory was out of the cove, with both men at the oars, and Sidney noted, before turning to obey Captain Eph's command, that the boat was headed southwest, leaving the ledge behind her in a lively fashion because of the strong wind, which helped her along as much if not more than the oars.

Now that he was alone--alone on the ledge beyond sight of land--Sidney found it very difficult to keep the tears from his eyes; but he made a brave effort, and went into the tower to do as Uncle Zenas had bidden him.

He had no desire for food--could not have eaten a mouthful save after a real exertion; but the keepers would need it when they returned, therefore it must be cared for in such a manner that it would be appetizing.

By thus looking forward to the time when the searchers might return, Sidney provoked the alarming question as to whether they would ever come back. Captain Eph had predicted that a storm was near at hand, and even if they did not lose their lives, it was well within the possibilities that many days might elapse before he saw them again.

Then it was that Sidney gave way to tears, feeling as if he had been abandoned--left to die on the desolate ledge; but after thus yielding to his sorrow for ten minutes or more, he resolutely put from him all forebodings, as he said aloud:

"I've been left in charge, and if it hadn't been for my being here Uncle Zenas couldn't have gone to help Captain Eph pull the boat. I'm not a baby; but if I don't mind my eye the keepers will have good reason for thinking I am one."

Suddenly the thought came into his mind that he had missed the chance of watching the dory as it sped before the wind on its errand of mercy, and, running up-stairs at full speed, he threw open that window in the watch-room which gave toward the south.

The rescuers had made such good speed that he could barely distinguish the boat with the naked eye, but by the aid of the gla.s.ses he saw that both men were rowing strongly and steadily, as if knowing exactly at what point the missing man could be found.

Search as he might, it was impossible to see anything floating on the sea. If Mr. Peters had been carried away by the raft, it must have been at an early hour in the forenoon, otherwise it should have been possible to see him.

Sidney watched the rapidly retreating dory as long as it was possible to distinguish the forms of her crew, and then, with a lump in his throat which threatened to choke him, he went into the kitchen.

Here he cared for the food, replenished the fire, swept the floor, and worked at whatsoever he could find for his hands to do until the room was seemingly as neat and tidy as ever it had been under Uncle Zenas'

supervision.

It seemed to him that he must have been at work a full hour, and yet when he looked at the clock the hands were but ten minutes farther on their journey around the dial than when he began.

Again he went into the watch-room; but now it was impossible to see even the dory, and he felt more forsaken than before.

Uncle Zenas was too good a housekeeper to leave very much work undone at that time in the day, and, search as he might, Sidney could find nothing with which to keep his hands busy.

With such a weight of sorrow in his heart he could not read, and he went to and fro between the lantern and the kitchen, hardly conscious of what he did. Again and again he searched the surface of the heaving waters with the gla.s.ses, but without seeing the smallest object which his fancy could shape into a raft or a boat.

When the clock in the kitchen struck the hour of four, it was as if his heart ceased beating, for he understood that even if the dory should come in sight immediately, it would be impossible for the keepers to reach the ledge before sunset, and he felt positive they would never return. He would be the sole occupant of that lonely tower until the inspector found an opportunity of visiting Carys' Ledge.

The wind was increasing in force, as he could understand by the howling and shrieking around the lantern, while his eyes told him that the sea was running higher than at any time since the storm which had wrecked the _Nautilus_.

Suppose the keepers should return at the earliest possible moment--suppose the dory was even then headed toward the light? The men might not be able to make a landing on the ledge, and he could do absolutely nothing to aid them!

Five o'clock!

He went into the lantern ready to light the lamp at the exact moment of sunset. He was surrounded by the angry waters, which were creeping slowly but surely toward the tower, and there was nothing in sight to give him courage!

CHAPTER XIII.

A DISABLED CREW.

The tears nearly blinded the lad as he lighted the lamp, started the clock, and watched to make certain it was running smoothly. Then he raised the wick until the flame was of the same size as Captain Eph had said was required to get the greatest amount of light without danger of smoke, and, closing the door of the lantern softly lest the echoes should be aroused, crept down to the kitchen.

Here he lighted a small lamp; raked out the ashes from the fire, put on fresh coal, and then stood in the middle of the room asking himself if it was possible he could stay there alone all night.

"That's a foolish question," he said, speaking aloud as if to hear the sound of his own voice. "I've _got_ to stay, because I couldn't go away if I was willing to leave the light alone. It isn't likely any of them will be back before morning, and I'd be ashamed to confess that I'd made a baby of myself at a time when it is possible to be of some service to those who have been so kind to me."

It was as if this little self-lecture did him good, for his face was brighter when he ascended the stairs to make certain the lamp was burning at its best.

Then back to the kitchen, where he put the dishes on the table so that a meal might be made ready quickly, if it so chanced that the keepers succeeded in gaining the ledge before another day had come. The coffee pot, full as when Uncle Zenas left it, was set on the back of the stove, and then he forced himself to eat a little.

"I'll go into the lantern every half-hour till sunrise," he said aloud. "There's no danger I shall feel like going to sleep while I'm here alone, and climbing the stairs so often will take up just so much of the time."

As he had said, so he did; but yet the hours pa.s.sed so slowly that at times it really seemed as if the hands of the clock stood still. He tried in vain to read; but the words danced before his eyes, and he found himself listening to the moaning of the wind, instead of taking heed to that which was before him.

At eight o'clock it seemed as if the night must have pa.s.sed, and from then until nine, each second was as a minute. It was hardly more than bed-time; eight more hours must elapse before a new day dawned, and there would be such a long, dreary time of waiting.

Then, suddenly, he heard what sounded like a human voice, and he ran swiftly to the door, but paused there, saying to himself it was foolish to allow such ideas to enter his mind, for none save the keepers themselves would come to that lonely ledge in the night, and it was not possible they had returned.

"Ahoy! Sonny! Fetch a lantern!"

It was Captain Eph's voice, and with a shrill cry of relief and joyful surprise, Sidney flung wide open the outer door, letting the light stream out from the kitchen in rays of welcome.

"h.e.l.lo Sonny! Gettin' lonesome, eh? Bring the lantern that's hangin'

behind the stove!"

It seemed to Sidney as if he had never been so clumsy before; twice the matches went out before the wick was lighted, and when he finally succeeded, he had difficulty in shutting down the globe.

When it had been made ready he descended the ladder as rapidly as possible, not stopping for coat or hat; but before gaining the rocks below the question came into his mind as to why all hands were remaining at the boat waiting for him to come with a lantern, when one could run her up on the ways without a.s.sistance.

"Did you find him?" Sidney shouted as he scrambled over the jagged rocks, and Captain Eph replied mournfully: