struggle, catch at the air, half leap from the water, fall, turn over and disappear under the wave, that was colored with his blood! She bounded forward and sprang upon her boat. Unmooring it and casting the ropes behind her, she seized the oar and dashed into the midst of the boiling sea. Urging on her boat between flashing foam and brine, she passed the eddy around the point, and rode rocking forward upon the rising and falling waves towards the spot she had seen him sink at. Keeping her eyes down the current where she supposed he would be whirled, she again saw him rise and struggle. She pulled swiftly for the spot, reached it, while he, lashing the waves with his arms, seized the side of the boat, and turned himself suddenly and heavily in, his weight pitching the light skiff upon one end. Hagar, with her skill and presence of mind, threw her whole weight upon the oar at the other end, and thus righted the boat. With a look of earnest gratitude to Hagar, Raymond seized the other oar, and they pulled for the shore. The sudden storm had spent its fury. It was now passing off, like a woman’s fit of anger in a passion of tears, in a heavy shower of rain. They pulled for the shore, but Raymond pulled painfully. They reached the beach where the captain, mate, and two men that composed the whole crew of the small craft, were waiting under the drenching rain. “Are all here, all safe?” asked Raymond, as he stepped upon the sand. “All safe! thank God!” answered the skipper. “But you, Raymond, you are wounded!” said Hagar, laying her hand upon a bloodstained rent on the shoulder of his jacket. Even at her light touch he involuntarily shrank slightly as he replied— “Not much, dear Hagar.”