I heard nothing but the roar of the rising storm. "I can hear nothing but the wind," I said. "But I can, I can," she said. "I can hear the screech ov the sufferin'; oa tes wisht, terrible wisht, Maaster Roger, but tes yer fate, my deer. I'll tell 'ee more another time, but you must go now, go and help em, you father wants 'ee go, and be keerful of they I've tould 'ee about." She pushed me out as I spoke, all the time looking around as though she saw sights unseen by me. "You'll want oal yer strength and oal yer courage, my deer, oa tes terrible. May Roger be protected; but oa, if 'ee saves her 'ee 'll have to suffer." Wondering at her words, I rushed out into the wild night, and had scarcely done so before I saw a dark form rise from under the window in the cottage, and hurry away right in the teeth of the wind. I started and followed, but whoever he might be, he was more fleet than I. The night was dark because of the storm, but the figure looked like that of my brother Wilfred. Full of conflicting thoughts, I hurried home, where I found my father dressed as if to go out. "What's the matter, father?" I asked. "There's a vessel round the point, Roger, and she's signalled for help." "Let me go with you. Is it a large one?" "No, and I am afraid that my friend's child is in her." "What child?" "Did you see that horseman this morning, Roger?" "Yes, father." "He came to tell me that an old friend was dead, and that in his last hours he had expressed a wish that I should take care of his child." "Yes, father; what then?" "She started to come here by boat, and should have arrived in our little landing-place by this. Hark! that's another signal for help. Come, Roger; where's Wilfred." "Wilfred cannot help on such a night as this, especially as his brother hurt him so yesterday," said my mother, who had just come into the room. "Come, let us go alone, then, Roger," said my father. We hurried down to the little harbour, where a dozen hardy Cornishmen were preparing to launch a boat on the angry sea. "Not gone yet, men?" said my father. "No, Maaster Trewinion, and ted'n no good. We should be knocked to pieces in two minutes," said one. "But we're goin' to have a try," said another. It was, indeed, a dangerous undertaking. The seas were now rising up like great hills and again falling into deep valleys. It seemed impossible for a boat to live. "We ca'ant do no good," said the first speaker. "But they've signalled for help," said the second, "and I ca'ant stand that!" As he spoke we heard a sound like a crack of a musket, which faintly reached us above the roar of wind and wave. "We'll man the biggest boat somehow," said my father. "Come here, everyone; who will go with Roger and me?" To the honour of the brave Cornish boys, a crew was ready in a minute. We jumped into the boat and soon were out in the boiling surf.