BESIEGING THE LIGHT-HOUSE. 895 



the family kettles and pewter plates. She saw many a 

 little article of grace and comfort, endeared to her by 

 gift or use, passed tliroiigh hrutal hands and stored in 

 the canoes lying in the lagoon, but her uncle w^as not 

 there. The faint hope that had arisen in her soul faded 

 away, and the mercury of her heart fell back with a cold 

 chill. 



The Indians paddled off fast, to get to the main land, 

 for the weather was changing ; a cold wind w^as blowing, 

 and they preferred the shelter of the main to their ex- 

 posed camp on the Key. In a little while their canoes 

 looked like a train of ducks gliding over the black 

 waters of the bay, and the curling waves came in from 

 seaward with a hollow sound, booming out at sea, and 

 hissing on the sands. Far beyond the regular shore- 

 breakers, white spots on the ocean and curling ridges 

 showed where the coral reefs reared their backs and 

 made maelstroms of boiling waves tangled with sea-weed 

 and brightened with foam. 



The sun set before its time in clouds. The air w^as all 

 a haze. The gulls flew about hither and thither, like bits 

 of white paper tossed on the winds. 



"A hard night at sea," said Lou, gathering herself up 

 and looking round her citadel. The wind blew up the 

 trap-door with spatters of the salt water, and found 

 eQ:ress throuo-h the shattered lantern. She drew some 

 planks over the hole, and after a fashion stopped the 

 broken windows with pieces of boards or glass. The 

 activity calmed her mind. She saw she w^as safe if she 



