The waves were dashing entirely over the ledge, and now and then a heavy one would strike the base of the tower with a force which seemed to jar the entire structure. "It'll soon be daylight, Sonny, an' then the storm won't seem so bad, even though it may be worse," Captain Eph said soothingly, as he noted the lad's start of alarm. "Do you think my boat will be wrecked?" "I'm obleeged to confess, Sonny, that the chances are agin her. It ain't likely much damage has been done yet; but it won't be high tide till eight o'clock, and then's when she'll get the worst poundin'." The keeper and Sidney were yet sitting at the table when Uncle Zenas entered the kitchen, and Captain Eph cried in surprise: "What sent you out so early as this?" "There's sich a racket up-stairs that I can't sleep; I was awake when you two came through the room. What do you say to a cup of hot coffee?" "It wouldn't go bad, Uncle Zenas, an' that's a fact, though Sonny an' me have had quite a bite already." The cook built a fire, and the cheery glow went very far toward restoring to Sidney the courage which had oozed out of his finger ends as the tower trembled under the blows of the tempest. "You two have been up in the watch-room till you're half frozen," Uncle Zenas said as he shoveled a generous supply of coal into the stove. "It has grown cold mighty sudden, an' I reckon Sonny will need his coat by the time I get it done." "When will that be?" Captain Eph asked, hoping rather to turn Sidney's attention from the raging of the gale, than because he was eager for information. "If nothing happens I'll take the last stitch in it by noon. I got on famously with the work while you were ashore." Then Uncle Zenas, after having filled the coffee pot, brought out the partially finished garment for inspection, and before they were done critising it, Mr. Peters came down-stairs, complaining bitterly of the cold. "It was lucky we went ashore yesterday," he said as he warmed his hands over the stove. "I reckon it'll be quite a spell before we make any more visits, or have any visitors." Captain Eph was on the point of replying to this remark when suddenly, even amid the roar of the tempest, could be heard a dull, booming sound, so foreign to anything which the gale brought to their ears that even Sidney ran to the window in alarm. The gray light of the coming day had dispelled the darkness in some slight degree: but the swirling downpour of snow was so great that it was impossible to make out the crests of the surges twenty feet away, yet all four remained at the window silent and motionless. Then came that which they feared to hear--another dull report brought on the wings of the gale, and there was no longer any doubt in the minds of the keepers. "God help 'em!" Captain Eph cried fervently as he began to pace the room nervously, and Sidney asked: "Help who, sir?"