The sun had not yet risen, and it the gray light of early dawn it was not possible to distinguish objects at any great distance. He had, in the immediate vicinity of the stockade, however, good proof of the violence with which the storm raged. A portion of the palisade itself had been overthrown, leaving an opening through which the entire force of the enemy might have marched shoulder to shoulder. Trees were uprooted; the small boat, which had been drawn beyond reach of the tide, was now within ten feet of the battered gate, having been carried there by the wind. That the buildings within the stockade remained un-injured was due, doubtless, to the thicket in the rear which served to shield them from the full fury of the elements. Turn where he might, the same scene of devastation met his gaze, and he understood that if any of the Frenchmen remained on the island they would be powerless to depart, for their vessel could not have outlived the night. The wind was yet so violent that only with difficulty could he make his way from one point to another, and the rain beat upon his face until it became necessary to shield his eyes in order to see anything twenty paces distant; but he struggled against the elements, making his way along the shore toward the place where the Frenchmen's schooner had been moored. The vessel no longer remained at her anchorage, nor did he expect to see her there; but he was not quite prepared for that which met his gaze when he was where a view of the most northerly point of the harbor island could be had. Between where he stood and the opposite shore was the hull of the schooner, keel uppermost, tossing on the short waves, now completely submerged, and again rising high in the air until the greater portion of the planking could be seen. Clinging to this restless wreck were six or eight human beings, and on the beach at his feet lay the bodies of two men who had been beaten down to death during the conflict of the elements. After watching for several moments the plunging, rolling remnant of what had been a seagoing vessel, fitted to withstand almost any buffeting of wave or wind, Mark became convinced that the wreck was moored in some fashion, and then it was possible to guess very nearly how the disaster had occurred. It seemed probable that when the first of the Frenchmen gained the schooner's deck, after the fury of the tempest had forced them to retreat from the stockade, the wild tossing of the craft as the waves were beginning to rise induced them to let go every anchor on board, under the belief that she could be held at moorings until the storm had subsided sufficiently to admit of her clawing away from the shore. [Illustration: He gazed at the struggling wretches on the bottom of the wreck.]