“It is perhaps some messenger come to fetch Maurice,” said the quick-witted Nest, who saw that her sister was uneasy; “for he is certainly coming here.” As she spoke the sounds approached quite close, and in another minute they had stopped at the gate. The sisters ran out, and threw open the door; a stranger was there, who advanced, and touched his cap to the ladies. “Please, madam, I bring a note from the captain, and am to take back an answer.” “Nothing the matter?” asked Hilary, breathless, scanning the messenger’s countenance, as she took the note. “Nothing with the captain,” was the answer. And Hilary, retreating to the light, opened the twisted paper and read―― “DEAR HILARY―― “Don’t be frightened; I want some linen for a man who has been hurt here: some for _him_, some for his _bed_, he has nothing! the messenger can tell you about the facts. I must stay and take care of him to-night. I hope you will not mind. “Yours, M. D.” “I will get what Captain Duncan wants, immediately,” said Mrs. Hepburn; “come in and sit down while I do it.” She put the note into Nest’s hands, saying, “Ask for an explanation, dear,” and hurried up stairs. The man, while he gladly spread his hands to the parlor fire, and refused to sit down on the chairs, which looked too refined for his society, told Miss Duncan that a yacht had appeared off the coast in the morning, and that the preventive men, after watching it for some time, saw a boat put off for the shore, with only one person in her. As there was a heavy ground-swell, and the landing was extremely dangerous, although the sea at the time, a hundred yards from the shore, was like glass, they signaled the boat not to approach. Whether the signals were unseen or unintelligible, they could not tell; the boat made for the beach, immediately below the preventive station. As might be expected, no sooner did she come within the influence of the rolling sea, than she was caught on the crest of a wave, thrown violently on the shore, capsized, stove, and the gentleman, for such he was, was dashed into the surf, from which he was with difficulty rescued by the coast-guard men, half-drowned, with a broken arm, and other terrible injuries to his head and person. He had been carried into a small public-house hard by, and after some hours they had succeeded in obtaining a doctor to dress his wounds; the remote part of the coast making it a matter of great difficulty to procure help of any kind, until the fortunate arrival of the captain, who had told them what to do, and was now with the wounded man. “And who is he?” exclaimed Nest.