Tobias Bassett kept strictly away from the living rooms for most of the forenoon. He knew himself to be in bad odor with the black-eyed girl, who, swathed in one of Miss Heppy’s voluminous aprons, briskly went about the homely tasks. Tobias came down about noon for some tools. He no longer looked sheepish, nor did he grin when he beheld Lorna’s very serious face. "I give it as my opinion that this is the worst summer storm we ever had," the lightkeeper said. "I’m a-getting anxious, I am." "Is there anything in sight, Tobias?" she asked him fearfully. "Meaning any sail? I should hope not! I don’t want to see no craft inshore with the wind in this quarter—nossir! I’m in trouble ’nough, as it is. I never see the beat on it. Just when Zeke is away, too." "What has happened?" she asked. "I’m ’fraid one o’ the plates o’ glass up there will blow in. The copper flange holding it is weakened—I dunno but it’s giving way. Why! if that should happen we couldn’t mebbe light the lamp to-night. She’d blow out or explode." "Oh, Tobias!" "I’ve got to try to fix it," he said, finding the hammer and cold chisel in the cupboard. "But it ain’t no one-man job." "Can I help you?" she asked. "Wal, ye might. If Heppy was only up and about she’d give me a hand." "I can help you just as well as Miss Heppy," Lorna declared with confidence. She followed the old man up the spiral stairway with lighter tread. The higher they went the louder in Lorna’s ears sounded the pæan of the gale. The tower trembled through all its height. The thunder of the breakers down below was, too, a threatening sound. They reached the lamp room. The wind seemed to burst against the glassed front of the room. There was such a creaking and rattling of joints and of window frames that Lorna was actually frightened. She cowered for a moment at the back of the room, her hands over her eyes. If Ralph was out in this awful storm! "Here ye be, Lorny!" shouted the lightkeeper. "See if you can give me a hand." She ventured forward. At first she scarcely dared look out across the sea. The spectacle of lowering masses of cloud with the white scud flying beneath and the foaming billows racing landward shook the girl’s very soul. The drum-beat of the breakers at the foot of the tower seemed to menace it. "Oh! aren’t we in danger up here?" she cried. "I cal’late the old Light will stand some pounding yet," Tobias grimly replied. She read the words on his lips rather than heard them. She dragged her attention from the view without to the work of repair that Tobias was engaged in. The pressure of her hand above and below the point on the broad flange where he was tapping was just the aid needed. "That’s it, Lorny. You’re as good at a pinch as ary boy. If we can keep this sheet of glass from shaking out of the frame——" "Oh, Tobias!" she gasped, "it is dreadful! I never imagined the power of the wind was so great."