The thought of being stranded upon the barren Core Banks would have been serious enough to awaken dread in the heart of any woman, even in the company of a sane person. But Ethel Marion had her distress instantly increased by the fact that the man with her was of unsound mind. She had a general idea of how far they would be distant from any human habitation. This very strip of sand had been pointed out to her many times by the local pilot aboard her father's yacht. Now, there came crashing into her tortured brain memories of tales told by that same pilot; concerning treasure secreted there years agone by the pirate Black Beard; concerning the weird lights that rose from the sands at night, then mysteriously vanished; concerning the evil beach-combers who burned here their flares to trick the skippers of ships out at sea and deliver them to death upon these sands, where the bones of the vessels might be picked at ease; concerning the utter isolation of this region, where no human beings were to be found short of Portsmouth at one end and Cape Lookout at the other--fifty miles apart. The launch drifted slowly, but none the less surely, toward the strip of sterile bleakness broken only by the huddled masses of the dunes. As she saw them that morning from the porch of Squire Goodwin's home, Ethel had thought them a splendid and inspiring spectacle. Now, under the changed circumstances, their nearer aspect terrified her. She felt a desperate wonder as to what fate might hold in store. By a mighty effort of will, the girl forced back the fear that threatened to overcome her. She addressed Garnet in a voice that trembled only slightly. "Would it not be better to drop the anchor, and remain out here where we could surely be seen by passing boats?" The Doctor shook his head in negation as he answered: "No, Miss Ethel. It would be of no use, for we are too far from the traveled route. Besides, you have been so long cramped up aboard this little boat that it's imperative that you should stretch yourself ashore. As far as the fishermen are concerned, we can make signals to them on shore as well as from here, better in fact." He pointed suddenly. "I can make out a rough fisherman's shack over younder between the dunes. There's no chance of its being occupied at this season, but the shelter afforded by it will mean everything to you." Ethel looked in the direction indicated. "Oh, yes, Doctor, I see it. I suppose it would help in an emergency, but I do hope we shall not be compelled to pass a night in this desolate place." The physician's voice was surcharged with gloom--perhaps from pity for himself rather than for her--as he replied.