"Madelaine!" "Louise!" All that was said as the two girls clasped each other and watched the dim lanthorns far at sea. "Ah!" Then a loud groan. "I knowed it couldn't be long." Then another deep murmur, whose strange intensity had made it dominate the shrieks, roars, and thunder of the storm. The light, which had been slowly waving up and down in the rigging of the brig, had disappeared, and it told to all the sad tale--that the mast had gone, and with it those who had been clinging in the top. But the two dim lanthorns in the life-boat went on and on, the thunder of the surf on the wreck guiding them. As the crew toiled away, the landsmen sufficiently accustomed to the use of the oar could pretty well hold their own, till, in utter despair and hopelessness, after hovering hours about the place where the wreck should have been, the life-boat's head was laid for the harbour lights; and after a fierce battle to avoid being driven beyond, the gallant little crew reached the shelter given by the long low point, but several had almost to be lifted to the wharf. A few jagged and torn timbers, and a couple of bodies cast up among the rocks, a couple of miles to the east, were all the traces of Van Heldre's handsome brig, which had gone to pieces in the darkness before the life-boat, on its second journey, was half-way there. Volume 1, Chapter XIX. A BAD NIGHT'S WORK. "Oh, yes, you're a very brave fellow, no doubt," said Pradelle. "Everybody says so. Perhaps if I could have handled an oar as well as you did I should have come too. But look here, Harry Vine; all these find words butter no parsnips. You are no better off than you were before, and you gave me your promise." It was quite true: fine words buttered no parsnips. Aunt Marguerite had called him her gallant young hero; Louise had kissed him affectionately; his father had shaken hands very warmly; Uncle Luke had given him a nod, and Van Heldre had said a few kindly words, while there was always a smile for him among the fishermen who hung about the harbour. But that was all; he was still Van Heldre's clerk, and with a dislike to his position, which had become intensified since Madelaine had grown cold, and her intimacy with Leslie had seemed to increase. "Look here," said Pradelle; "it's time I was off." "Why? What for?" said Harry, as they sat among the rocks. "Because I feel as if I were being made a fool." "Why, every one is as civil to you as can be. My father--" "Oh, yes; the old man's right enough." "My aunt." "Yes, wish she wasn't so old, Harry, and had some money; I'd marry her." "Don't be a fool." "Not going to be; so I tell you I'm off." "No, no, don't go. This place will be unbearable when you are gone." "Can't help it, dear boy. I must do something to increase my income, and if you will not join in and make a fortune, why I must go and find some one who will." "But I dare not, Vic."