island.

"No; there is a beach under the rocks," replied Wallbridge. "I know the place very well. Let her go ahead, and we must take our chances in the surf."

"If there is a beach we shall do very well," replied the mate, pulling vigorously at his oar to keep the boat before the wind; for he knew that, if she fell off into the trough of the sea, she would be instantly swamped.

But the distance was short between the ledge and the shore, and in a moment more the boat struck heavily upon the gravelly beach, which was, at this time of tide, not more than ten feet wide, and the waves already rolled over it against the perpendicular rocks. With one consent, the four men leaped from the boat into the surf. The mate carried the painter on shore with him, and endeavored to swing around the boat, which had come stern foremost to the beach. Burns imprudently moved out into the surf to assist him, when the undertow from a heavy wave swept him far out into the angry sea. In the mean time, Wallbridge and Harvey Barth retreated towards the cliff. The tide was still rising, and the beach afforded but partial shelter from the fury of the billows.

"This is no place for us," said Wallbridge, gloomily.

"I don't think it is," drawled Harvey. "We can't stand it here a great while."

"But I will make sure of one thing," added the late passenger of the Waldo. "I have twelve hundred dollars in gold in my hand, and it may be the means of drowning me."

"Gold isn't of much use to us just now," sighed Harvey, indifferently, as he glanced around him to ascertain if there were any means of escape to the high rocks above; but no man could climb the steep cliff beside him.

"I worked two years in Cuba for this money, and I don't like to lose it," said Wallbridge. "But I don't mean to be drowned on account of it."

As he spoke he kneeled down on the beach, and scooped out of the sand and gravel a hole about a foot deep, into which he dropped the bag of gold.

"Under that overhanging rock," said he, fixing in his mind the locality of his "hidden treasure;" "I shall be able to find it again when I want it."

"I hope you will," answered Harvey Barth, looking up at the mark indicated by his companion.

It was little he cared for gold then, and leaving the owner of the treasure to consider more particularly the place where he had buried it, he walked along under the cliff in search of some shelter from the billows, which every moment drenched him in their spray. He moved on some distance, till an angle in the cliff carried it out into the deep water. He had come to the end of the beach, and he halted there in despair. He felt that there was no alternative but to lie down and die in the angry waves, for it was better to be drowned than to be dashed to pieces on the jagged rocks. A bright flash of lightning, followed by a fearful crash of thunder, as though the bolt had struck upon the land near him, illuminated the scene for an instant. That flash, which might have carried death and destruction in its path on the land, kindled a new hope in the bosom of Harvey Barth, for it revealed to him an opening in the angle of the rock. The cliff seemed to have been rent asunder, and a torrent of fresh water was pouring down through it from the high land above.

Harvey entered the opening, walking with difficulty over the large, loose stones, rounded by the flow of the stream. The ascent was steep, and the torrent of water that poured down through the ravine increased the trials of its passage. But the wrecked wanderer felt that he was safe from the fury of the savage waves. When he came to a flat rock, only a few feet above the beach, upon which he could step out of the little torrent, he paused to rest and recover his breath. Then he thought of his companions in misery, exposed to the peril of the sweeping billows and the more terrible rocks. He was not a selfish man, and the thought caused him to retrace his steps to the entrance of the ravine. Here he halted, and shouted with all his might to his shipmates; but his voice was weak at the best, and no response came to his cries. The dashing of the sea and the roaring of the tempest drowned the sound.

After finding a place of safety, he could not leave his companions to perish. The tide was still rising, increased and hastened by the furious hurricane which drove the waters in this direction. The beach was more dangerous than when he had crossed it before, but the steward, in spite of his weakness, reached the spot where the passenger had buried his gold. Neither the mate nor Wallbridge was there; and the whale-boat had also disappeared. With the greatest difficulty, Harvey succeeded in regaining the opening in the rock. Several times he was knocked down by the billows, and once he was thrown with considerable force against the cliff. Bruised and exhausted, he seated himself on the flat rock again, to recover his breath and the little strength he had left.

Wallbridge and the mate were appalled at the fate of Burns, though they did not know that a broken spar from the wreck had struck him on the head, and deprived him of the use of his powers. The whale-boat was hauled around, head to the beach, but the waves swept it far up towards the rocks, which threatened its destruction in a few moments more. Then they missed Harvey, and both of them shouted his name with all the vigor of their strong lungs; but the steward did not hear them.

"The sea has swept him away," said the mate, sadly.

"Or dashed him against the rocks," added Wallbridge. "It will be the same with us in a short time. I didn't think the tide was up so far, or I should have known better than to land here."

"I would rather take my chance on the wreck," continued Mr. Carboy, who still held the painter of the boat. "I think it is moderating a little."

"Not much; but do you think we can get off in the whale-boat?" asked Wallbridge.

"We may but it is death to stay here ten minutes longer."

"That's true; for common tides rise to the foot of the rocks. We can't stand up much longer."

"Now's our time!" exclaimed the mate. "The wind lulls a little. It can't be any worse on the wreck than it is here."

The hurricane had certainly subsided a little, and with a vigorous effort the two stout men shoved the whale-boat down the steep declivity into the deep water. Keeping her head to the sea, with the oars in their hands they leaped into the boat as a receding billow carried her far out from the beach.

"Now, give way!" cried the mate; and with lusty strokes they pulled against the advancing sea.

The boat was light, and the two rowers were powerful men, thoroughly experienced in the handling of boats under the most trying circumstances. They succeeded in getting clear of the beach, however, only by the favoring lull of the tempest. They pulled dead to windward, for Mr. Carboy dared not risk the boat in the trough of the sea, even for a moment. This direction brought them, after a desperate pull, to the wreck of the Waldo, only the forward part of which remained. This portion appeared to the mate to be wedged in between a couple of rocks, now hidden by the waves, for it did not rise and fall with the billows. He stated his belief to Wallbridge, and they agreed that the wreck would be the safest place for them. The passenger spoke of a good harbor but a short distance to the northward, but Mr. Carboy declared that the whale-boat would be swamped in the attempt to reach it.

Under the lee of the wreck, the sea was comparatively mild, and the mate fastened the painter of the boat to the bobstay of the brig.