A strong wave wrenched apart the timbers, and Robert Coverdale found himself, without warning, spilled into the sea, a mile and a half from land. Instinctively he struck out and began to swim, but the distance was great and he was impeded by his clothes. Looking neither to the right nor to the left, but only straight ahead, he swam with all the strength there was left to him, but he found himself weakening after a while and gave himself up for lost. CHAPTER XIV THE HERMIT OF THE CLIFF The last thing that Robert could remember was the singing of the waters in his ears and a weight as of lead that bore him downward with a force which he felt unable to resist. But at the critical moment, when the doors of death seemed to be swinging open to admit him, he was firmly seized by a slender, muscular arm, extended from a boat shaped somewhat like an Indian canoe and rowed by a tall, thin man with white hair and a long white beard. In the dusk our hero had not seen the boat nor known that help was so near at hand. But the occupant of the boat had, from a distance, seen the going to pieces of the raft, and appreciated the peril of the brave swimmer, and paddled his boat energetically toward him just in time to rescue him when already insensible. Pale and with closed eyes lay Robert in the bottom of the boat. The old man--for so he appeared--rather anxiously opened the boy’s shirt and placed his hand over his heart. An expression of relief appeared on his face. “He will do,” he said sententiously and turned his attention to the boat. Half a mile from the cliff on which stood the fisherman’s cabin was another, rising to a greater height. To this the stranger directed his boat. He fastened it and then, raising our hero in his arms, walked toward the cliff. There was a cavity as wide as a door, but less in height, through which he passed, lowering his head as he entered. Inside the opening steadily widened and became higher. This cavity was about ten feet above the sandy beach and was reached by a ladder. On he passed, guided amid the darkness by a light from a lantern hanging from the roof. The front portion of the cavern seemed like a hall, through which a narrow doorway led into a larger room, which was furnished like the interior of a house. Upon a walnut table stood a lamp, which the stranger lighted. He took the boy, already beginning to breathe more freely, and laid him on a lounge, covered with a buffalo skin, at the opposite side of the apartment. From a shelf he took a bottle and administered a cordial to Robert, who, though not yet sensible, mechanically swallowed it. The effect was almost instantaneous. The boy opened his eyes and looked about him in bewilderment. “Where am I?” he inquired. “What can you remember?” asked the old man. Robert shuddered. “I was struggling in the water,” he answered. “I thought I was drowning.”