Without the storm was not much felt in the sequestered cove, although there were occasional blasts of wind that penetrated the harbour entrance, terrific in force, and seemed to fairly take their breath on their exit. Above, streaks of twilight were still visible, and flying, scudding fragments of clouds driven on the blast. Then came sleet and hail that stung the face like needles. The lad staggered a moment almost blinded by the withering, hail-burdened wind. "Avast a bit, lad," roared the watchman, and running back and securing an oilskin and sou'wester, "'ere, stow tha cargo in that," handing the oilskin, "and clap that on your main-top," handing the great sou'wester. Lights were stationed on both points of the narrow entrance and they returned to the beach where they awaited. There was a fascination in the great waves and breakers, hurling themselves from the gloom like vast mountains of green darkness toward the cove's entrance, where they would shiver themselves to pieces with a deep roar, augmented by its reverberating throughout the hollow length of the harbour. Then as they watched, a higher wave than usual seemed to approach the entrance--nearer and nearer, larger and larger, until it seemed to fill the narrow cove's mouth from cliff to cliff, and threatened engulfment of cove and all in one watery grave. The wind ceased for a moment. The feeling Ande had was inexpressible. "See!" he roared to the smuggler watchman, "see, it'll sweep the whole cove!" He was turning to bound up the cliff, when the watchman seized him. "Avast, lad, 'tez only the lugger." True, it was the lugger, that with shortened, bellying sails, rushed in like a thing of life, and so great was her momentum that there was danger of her beaching. The skipper was a skilful hand, and not new at his business, which he demonstrated by the quickness of his orders. A cry of command, and in a twinkling all sails were neatly folded and closely reefed. Another command, and gently the smuggler vessel drew in to the landing.