It was as if this little self-lecture did him good, for his face was brighter when he ascended the stairs to make certain the lamp was burning at its best. Then back to the kitchen, where he put the dishes on the table so that a meal might be made ready quickly, if it so chanced that the keepers succeeded in gaining the ledge before another day had come. The coffee pot, full as when Uncle Zenas left it, was set on the back of the stove, and then he forced himself to eat a little. "I'll go into the lantern every half-hour till sunrise," he said aloud. "There's no danger I shall feel like going to sleep while I'm here alone, and climbing the stairs so often will take up just so much of the time." As he had said, so he did; but yet the hours passed so slowly that at times it really seemed as if the hands of the clock stood still. He tried in vain to read; but the words danced before his eyes, and he found himself listening to the moaning of the wind, instead of taking heed to that which was before him. At eight o'clock it seemed as if the night must have passed, and from then until nine, each second was as a minute. It was hardly more than bed-time; eight more hours must elapse before a new day dawned, and there would be such a long, dreary time of waiting. Then, suddenly, he heard what sounded like a human voice, and he ran swiftly to the door, but paused there, saying to himself it was foolish to allow such ideas to enter his mind, for none save the keepers themselves would come to that lonely ledge in the night, and it was not possible they had returned. "Ahoy! Sonny! Fetch a lantern!" It was Captain Eph's voice, and with a shrill cry of relief and joyful surprise, Sidney flung wide open the outer door, letting the light stream out from the kitchen in rays of welcome. "Hello Sonny! Gettin' lonesome, eh? Bring the lantern that's hangin' behind the stove!" It seemed to Sidney as if he had never been so clumsy before; twice the matches went out before the wick was lighted, and when he finally succeeded, he had difficulty in shutting down the globe. When it had been made ready he descended the ladder as rapidly as possible, not stopping for coat or hat; but before gaining the rocks below the question came into his mind as to why all hands were remaining at the boat waiting for him to come with a lantern, when one could run her up on the ways without assistance. "Did you find him?" Sidney shouted as he scrambled over the jagged rocks, and Captain Eph replied mournfully: "Ay, we've got the poor fellow." "What?" and the lad stopped suddenly. "He isn't--isn't--" "He's alive, Sonny, an' that's about the best that can be said; but, thank God, we overtook him before it was too late." Now it was possible for Sidney to see the apparently lifeless form of Mr. Peters in the bottom of the dory; but before he had time for more than a passing glance, Captain Eph said softly: