"We're mighty lucky to be no worse off," Uncle Zenas said as he unfastened the bandages in order to look at his injuries, and this reminded Captain Eph that it was time to apply more scraped potato. When the forenoon came to an end both the invalids were cared for, and Sidney had the noon-day meal ready. Mr. Peters had made what served as tables, but which were really rough stools, and from these Captain Eph and Uncle Zenas ate their dinner with very little of discomfort. Because there was nothing he could do in behalf of the invalids, Mr. Peters spent the greater portion of the afternoon in bed, and Sidney read to or talked with the keepers until it was time to get supper. The record of this day would serve fairly well for the five succeeding days. The storm had cleared away after raging with mild violence forty-eight hours; but the wind seemed to have increased rather than subsided, and the waves were so boisterous that it would have been impossible, save at the cost of life, to descend from the kitchen to the ledge. The keepers were storm-bound even though the sun was shining, and would be until the wind subsided. During all this time but few vessels were to be seen far down on the horizon, and never one near enough to be signaled. Both the disabled keepers were recovering even more rapidly than could have been reasonably expected. Captain Eph's sprained leg no longer caused him very great pain; but he, as well as his companions, understood that very many days must elapse before he should venture to stand upon it. Uncle Zenas was able to hobble around fairly well, and, with a certain amount of assistance from Sidney, attended to the greater portion of the cook's duties; but neither of the men had attempted to ascend the stairs. Never for a moment had Mr. Peters faltered in his efforts to atone for his deceit. It was as if each day he tried the harder to perform more work, or minister to the comfort of his comrades, until Captain Eph said privately to Sidney that "Sammy's trip on the raft had worked a wonderful change." On the morning of the sixth day after the combination of accidents, there was a break in the monotony, which excited the invalids greatly. Mr. Peters, who had been in the lantern attending to some trifling duty, came down-stairs at a rapid pace as he cried: "The light-house tender is headin' this way, not more'n two miles away, an' makin' heavy weather of it!" In a twinkling the room was a scene of the greatest excitement. Captain Eph, forgetting his injured limb, attempted to spring to his feet, but sank back quickly with a groan, and Uncle Zenas, thinking only that the inspector might not be pleased at seeing beds in the kitchen, bent over to gather up the clothing, when the partially healed burns caused him to straighten up again as a cry of pain escaped his lips.