But Miss Patience, shut up in the back part of the carriage like a water nymph in her cave, still wept hysterically. So Captain Perez continued his dismal attempt at facetiousness. “The main thing,” he said, “is to keep her on an even keel. If she teeters to one side, you teeter to t'other. Drat that fox!” he ejaculated. “I thought when Web's place burned we'd had fire enough to last for one spell, but it never rains but it pours.” “Oh, dear!” sobbed the lady. “Now everything 'll burn up, and they'll blame me for it. Well, I'll be drownded anyway, so I shan't be there to hear 'em. Oh, dear! dear!” “Oh, don't talk that way. We're driftin' somewheres, but we're spinnin' 'round so I can't tell which way. Judas!” he exclaimed, more soberly, “I remember, now; it ain't but a little past seven o'clock, and the tide's goin' out.” “Of course it is,” resignedly, “and we'll drift into the breakers in the bay, and that 'll be the end.” “No, no, I guess not. We ain't dead yit. If I had an oar or somethin' to steer this clipper with, maybe we could git into shoal water. As 'tis, we'll have to manage her the way Ote Wixon used to manage his wife, by lettin' her have her own way.” They floated in silence for a few moments. Then Miss Patience, who had bravely tried to stifle her sobs, said with chattering teeth, “Perez, I'm pretty nigh froze to death.” It will be remembered that the Captain had spoken of the weather as being almost as warm as summer. This was a slight exaggeration. It happened, fortunately for the castaways, that this particular night, coming as it did just at the end of the long thaw, was the mildest of the winter and there was no wind, but the air was chill, and the damp fog raw and biting. “Well, now you mention it,” said Captain Perez, “it IS cold, ain't it? I've a good mind to jump overboard, and try to swim ashore and tow the carryall.” “Don't you DO it! My land! if YOU should drown what would become of ME?” It was the tone of this speech, as much as the words, that hit the Captain hard. He himself almost sobbed as he said: “Pashy, I want you to try to git over on this front seat with me. Then I can put my coat 'round you, and you won't be so cold. Take hold of my hand.” Miss Patience at first protested that she never could do it in the world, the carriage would upset, and that would be the end. But her companion urged her to try, and at last she did so. It was a risky proceeding, but she reached the front seat somehow, and the carryall still remained right-side-up. Luckily, in the channel between the beaches there was not the slightest semblance of a wave. Captain Perez pulled off his coat, and wrapped it about his protesting companion. He was obliged to hold it in place, and he found the task rather pleasing. “Oh, you're SO good!” murmured Miss Patience. “What should I have done without you?”