She thought, too, of mariners clinging to spars, and of poor women who were lashed to rafts, and beaten to death by the cruel sea.

She tried to thank God that she was thus spared, and lifted her eyes from the baby, who had fallen into a fretful sleep.

Suddenly, away to the southward, a great light lifted itself out of the gloom, and flashed and flickered, and flickered and flashed again.

Her heart fluttered quickly against the baby's cold cheek.

It was the lighthouse at the entrance of the bay.