Billie Bradley on Lighthouse Island; Or, The Mystery of the Wreck

by Janet D. Wheeler

  CHAPTER XXII

  THE FURY OF THE STORM

  The next day the boys went off again in spite of Mrs. Danvers' entreatiesto stay another night or two until the weather showed definite signs ofclearing up.

  But the boys were decided--saying that since the mist had lifted they hadreally no excuse for staying longer, and as Paul was evidently veryanxious to get to his father, Mrs. Danvers had nothing else to do but togive in.

  "It's true, the fog has lifted," she admitted, gazing up anxiously at anovercast sky, "but after a calm like this we are sure to have astorm--how much of one it's hard to tell. Well, go on. But promise me tostay close to the mainland and to put in to shore if the weather manlooks too threatening."

  The boys promised and the girls waved to them until _The Shelling_ wasonly a tiny speck on the water. Then they turned rather sadly back towardthe Danvers' home.

  "I feel as if somebody were dead or something," complained Vi, as theyneared the bungalow. "I don't know what's the matter with me."

  "It's the weather, I guess," said Billie, feeling low in spiritsherself--a very unusual state for merry Billie. "We shall all feel betterwhen the sun comes out."

  "If it ever does," said Laura, gloomily.

  "It's got to," said Vi.

  Half way home they saw Uncle Tom hurrying toward them with Robert Bruceat his heels, and they wondered what the matter was.

  "Hello!" he cried when he came within earshot. "I was just going to seeyour dad, Connie. The boys haven't gone yet, have they?"

  And when Connie said that they had he looked so grave that the girls werefrightened.

  "Why, Uncle Tom, what's the matter?" asked Connie fearfully.

  "Matter enough," said Uncle Tom, turning to scowl up at the overcast sky."It's as much as those youngsters' lives are worth for them to set outto-day. Why, there's a storm on the way," and he fixed his eyes gravelyon the girls, "such as this old Maine coast hasn't seen for years. Why,every captain who can read the signs is going to make straight for thenearest port, or if he is too far away to make port before the stormbreaks, he's going to get down on his knees and pray the good Lord tomake his old ship staunch enough to stand the test. It will be upon us bynight." His eyes sought the wild dreary waste of water and he spoke asthough to himself. "Lord, how I dread to-night!"

  "But, Uncle Tom, what can we do about the boys?" Connie shook his armfiercely. "Why, if we have the kind of storm you say they may be drowned!Oh, can't we do something?"

  Uncle Tom's eyes came back from the horizon and he shook his head slowly.

  "I don't know that there's much we can do--now," he said. "If they haveany sense they'll put in to port before the storm breaks. That is if theystick close in to shore."

  "They said they would," Billie put in eagerly. "Oh, I hope they do!"

  Uncle Tom nodded absently, for his mind seemed to be upon other things.

  "Then they ought to be all right," he said, adding, while the linesdeepened about his mouth: "But Heaven help the ships that can't put intoshore to-night."

  He turned slowly and strode away from them toward the lighthouse withBruce still following worshipfully after him. He had forgotten they werethere.

  "Poor Uncle Tom!" said Connie, as they went slowly on toward thebungalow. "He always gets so queer when there's a storm along the coast.I guess it makes him think of--her."

  * * * * *

  It was night, and the storm had burst in all its fury. The four girls andConnie's mother had gathered in the little front sitting room on thesecond floor.

  Mr. Danvers had started a few minutes before to press the button thatwould flood the room with light, but Billie had begged him not to.

  "I want to see the light in the tower," she had pleaded, adding softly:"Somehow I'm not quite so afraid for the ships out there when I see thelight. Oh, listen to that wind!"

  "I don't see how we can very well help it," said Vi, with a little shiverand cuddling up close to Billie on the window seat and slipping a handinto hers. "Oh--h!" and she clapped her hand to her ears as the wind roseto a wailing scream and the windows all over the house shook and rattledwith the impact.

  "I guess Uncle Tom was right," said Connie, from somewhere out of thedarkness. "Dad says, too, that this is the worst summer storm we have hadaround these parts for years. Oh, I do hope the boys are safe somewhereon shore."

  "I don't think we need worry about them," said Mr. Danvers. Or rather hestarted to say it, but at that moment the wind rose with insane fury,bringing the rain with it in driving torrents that beat swishingly uponthe sand and drove viciously against the windows.

  He waited for a moment until the wind died down. Then he began again.

  "The storm was a long time in coming," he said. "The boys had plenty ofwarning. Paul is very cautious, and I know he wouldn't go on in the faceof such danger. But," and he turned toward the window again, "heaven helpthe ship that can't make port to-night."

  "That's almost exactly what Uncle Tom said," remarked Connie, and thenthere was silence in the little room again while outside the storm ragedand the light from the lighthouse tower sent its warning far out over thefoam-crested waves.

  The girls went to bed at last. Not because they expected to sleep, butbecause Connie's mother insisted.

  "Poor Uncle Tom!" murmured Billie to herself as, in her little whitenightie, she stood at the window looking out toward the lighthouse tower."All alone out there. What was it he said? 'You think of the men and thewomen and the little children out there on the sinking ships, and youcurse the storm that's bringing disaster along with it.' Poor, poor UncleTom! I wonder if he _is_ thinking of--her."

  And with a sigh she turned from the window and crept into bed besideConnie.

  Toward morning the girls were awakened from an uneasy sleep by a strangewhite light flashed suddenly in their eyes. They stumbled out of bed,dazed by the suddenness with which they had been awakened and stared outinto the black night.

  "What was it?" gasped Billie. "Oh my, there it is again!"

  "The searchlight," cried Connie, running over to the window, her eyeswide with horror. "Billie, that's the signal to the life-savers. Andthere goes the siren," she groaned, clapping her hands over her ears asthe moan of the siren rose wailingly into the night. "It's a wreck!Billie--oh--oh!"

  "A wreck!" cried a voice behind them, and they turned to see Laura in thedoorway with Vi peering fearfully over her shoulder. "Oh, girls, I wasjust dreaming----"

  "Never mind what you were dreaming," cried Billie, beginning to pull onher clothes with trembling hands. "If it is a wreck, girls, we may beable to do something to help. Oh, where is my other stocking? Did any onesee it? Never mind, here it is. Oh, hurry, girls; please, hurry."

  Twice more while they were dressing the searchlight flashed round uponthe island, filling their rooms with that weird white light, and thesiren wailed incessantly its wild plea for help.

  The girls were just pulling on their waterproof coats when Connie'smother, white and trembling, appeared in the doorway and stared withamazement at sight of them.

  "I heard you talking, girls," she said, "and knew you were awake. I hopedyou would sleep through it."

  "Sleep through _that_?" asked Connie, as the siren rose to a shriek andthen died off into a despairing moan. "Oh, Mother----"

  "But what are you going to do, kiddies?" asked Mrs. Danvers, taking astep toward them. "The life-savers will be coming soon--perhaps they areat work now--and they will do all that can be done. Why are you puttingon your coats?"

  "Oh, please, please don't make us stay at home," begged Billie, turningan earnest, troubled face to Connie's mother. "We may not be able to doanything to help, but we shall at least be there if we should be needed."

  "Muddie, dear, we couldn't stay here, we just couldn't," added Connie,and with a little choked cry Mrs. Danvers turned away.

  "You darling, darling kiddies," she cri
ed. "Run along then if you must.Only," she stopped at the doorway to look earnestly back at them, "don'tgo any farther than the lighthouse until Dad and I come. We'll be alongright away."

  The girls ran down the stairs, and Connie opened the front door withhands that fumbled nervously at the lock. As the door swung open the windsprang at them like a living thing, taking their breath, making themstagger back into the hall.

  "Th--that wind!" cried Laura, clenching her hands angrily. "I'd like tokill it! Come on, girls."

  Laura rushed out into the storm while the other girls followed, pullingthe door shut behind them.