The captain settled himself in his seat in silence, his eyes watching every wave that raced by, and laid his course towards the white tower five miles away, blurred gray in the driving rain. Caleb held the sheet, his eyes facing the long, low line of hills where his cabin lay. As he hauled the sheet closer a heavy sigh broke from him. It was the first time since he had known Betty that he had set his face homeward without a thrill of delight filling his heart. Captain Joe heard the smothered sigh, and, without turning his head, laid his great hand with its stiff thole-pin fingers tenderly on Caleb’s wrist. These two men knew each other. “I wouldn’t worry, Caleb,” he said, after a little. “That butcher sees too much, an’ sometimes he don’t know nothin’. He’s allers got some cock-an’-bull story ’bout somebody ’r other. Only las’ week he come inter Gardiner’s drug store with a yarn ’bout the old man bein’ pisened, when it warn’t nothin’ but cramps. Ease a little, Caleb—s-o. Seems to me it’s blowin’ harder.” As he spoke, a quick slash of the cruel wind cut the top from a pursuing wave and flung it straight in Caleb’s face. The diver, with his stiffened fingers, combed the dripping spray from his beard, and without a word drew his tarpaulins closer. Captain Joe continued:— “Wust 'r them huckster fellers is they ain’t got no better sense 'an to peddle everythin’ they know 'long with their stuff. Take in—_take in, Caleb_! That _was_ a soaker.” The big wave that had broken within a foot of the rail had drenched them from head to foot. “Butcher didn’t say nobody was with Betty, did he?” he asked, with a cant of his sou’wester to free it from sea-water. Caleb shook his head. “No, and there warn’t nobody. I tell ye this thing’ll straighten itself out. Ye can’t tell what comes inter women’s heads sometimes. She might’er gone over to Greenport to git some fixin’s for Sunday, an’ would’er come back in the afternoon boat, but it blowed so. Does she know anybody over there?” Caleb did not answer. Somehow since he had seen Captain Joe hope had gone out of his heart. He had understood but too clearly the doubting question that had escaped the captain’s lips, as he sprang from the bed and looked into his eyes. He was not a coward; he had faced without a quiver many dangers in his time; more than once he had cut his air-hose, the last desperate chance of a diver when his lines are fouled. But his legs had shaken as he listened to Captain Joe. There was something in the tone of his voice that had unmanned him. For a mile or more the two men did not speak again. Wave after wave pursued them, and tossed its angry spray after them. Captain Joe now managed the sail with one hand, and steered with the other. Caleb bailed incessantly.