"Are the fish-cakes spiled?" Captain Eph asked as he opened the door leading outside the tower to a ladder of iron, which was fastened directly to the masonry of the building. "Gone to a cinder," the cook replied in a tone of sorrow, "an' I allow they was the best I ever put together. What about the boat?" "That's what I can't tell, Uncle Zenas. This 'ere fog has shut in worse than ever, an' the chances are we'll never see her agin." "How did she happen to be out there? Some fisherman, eh?" "No; me an' Sammy are both agreed that it's a motor boat, an' she looked to me like such a craft as would be carried by some big sailing vessel." "But what is she doin' out there?" "Now, look here, Uncle Zenas, I don't know anything more about her than you do. How can you expect I'm goin' to answer such a fool question as that? All I can say is that, 'cordin' to the last sight I had of her, it looked as if she was headin' for this 'ere ledge, an' all the rest is a puzzle." "Where are you goin' now?" the cook asked as he set about preparing more fish-cakes. "Down to the rocks. It's just possible I may be able to give the course to whosoever is coming, an' Heaven knows he'll need it." Then, as if to put an end to the conversation, Captain Eph closed the door emphatically behind him, and descended the long, slender ladder which led to the ledge below. Not an inviting looking place in which to spend the greater portion of one's life was Carys' Ledge; nothing but a mass of black, jagged rocks rising out of the ocean a dozen miles or more from the mainland, and in extent at low water, half a mile long, and considerably less than that distance in width. Save for two rows of timbers securely bolted to the rocks, and extending from the base of the tower to the water's edge to form "ways," on which a boat could be drawn up or launched, and a small hut not unlike the dwelling of an Esquimau, made of cement, and large enough to shelter a dory, there was nothing to be seen on the ledge of jagged rocks, over which one could make his way only with considerable difficulty. Captain Eph descended to the water's edge by following the timbers of the boat-ways, taking due care as to where he stepped, for the footing was far from secure anywhere save on the extreme top of the ledge, and, making a trumpet with his hands, he shouted again and again, pausing now and then in a listening attitude. "It don't stand to reason he could hold his course long enough to hit this 'ere ledge; but I reckon it's my duty as a Christian man an' a light keeper to do what I can toward lendin' a hand. If he don't come ashore here, the chances are mightily agin his strikin' land while the breath is left in his body, for this 'ere smother is enough to mix up anybody except an old shellback like me. Hello-o-o-o! Hello-o-o-o!" Captain Eph actually started in surprise at hearing his hail answered, and it seemed to him as if it was a child's voice which had come from out the fog.