The line of reefs stood as a barrier to the sea, and after the waves came in contact with the rocks they continued on their course with less violence than before.

Still, it was terrible enough to any one exposed to their fury.

Hope soars high in the breast of youth, however, and life is sweet, so that our hero continued to struggle against the forces to which he found himself exposed.

Again had his eyes caught a glimpse of a burning light on the shore, and somehow it gave him renewed courage to hold on, for he seemed to understand that determined hearts were waiting there, eager to give him a helping hand.

Then some object sped past him, and he caught the sight of flashing oars.

It was the lifeboat!

In spite of the great danger involved in the undertaking, the coast guards had succeeded in launching their boat, and were even now heading toward the wreck on the reef; though the chances of finding a single living soul aboard seemed small indeed, for the billows were breaking completely over her, and she must soon go to pieces.

Darry tried to call out, but his mouth filled with salty water, and in despair he saw the boat pass him by.

Even the lightning failed to illumine the scene just then, or some eager eye might have detected the floating spar and its human burden.

No hope remained save that he might be tossed up on the beach somewhere near the friendly fire that was burning as a beacon.

Once he fancied he heard men shouting during a lull in the roar of the elements; but the coming of another smothering billow shut out the friendly sounds.

Closer he was flung, until he could again hear the shouts of men, but the baffling seas kept playing with him, sending him up on the breaking wave only to once more snatch him back, until the poor boy almost despaired of living through the dreadful ordeal.

He tried his best to raise his voice, but the cry he gave utterance to was so feeble that even if heard it must have been taken for the note of some storm bird attracted by the light of the beacon fire.

Just when he was giving way to despair, he saw the figures of men running along the beach close to the edge of the waves, and new hope awoke in his breast that his predicament had been seen.

Now they were pushing into the sea, holding one another’s hands, and forming a living chain, with a sturdy fellow at the end to snatch the victim of the wreck out of the jaws of death.

The precious sight was at that instant shut out, for again there came a deluge of water from behind, overwhelming the boy on the floating spar.

Darry felt something take hold upon him, which, in his excited condition, he at first believed to be a shark; but, on the contrary, it proved to be the fingers of the man at the outer end of the line.

Once they closed upon the person of the shipwrecked cabin boy they could not be easily induced to let go, and amid shouts of triumph, spar and lad were speedily dragged up on the beach beyond reach of the hungry waves.

He was dimly conscious of being released from his friendly float, and tenderly carried a short distance to the shelter of a house.

It was the life-saving station to which the boy had been taken by his rescuers.

[Illustration:  He was dimly conscious of being released from his friendly float.]

Here he was wrapped in blankets, and placed close to a warm fire in order to restore his benumbed faculties; while some hot liquid being forced between his pallid lips served to give new strength to his body.

In less than ten minutes he opened his eyes and looked around.

Kind faces, even though rough and bearded, surrounded him, and he knew that for once he had cheated the sea of a victim.

As strength came back he began to take an interest in what was passing around him, especially when he saw several men carried in, whom he recognized as some of the sailors of the ill-fated brigantine.

Eagerly he watched and prayed that his good friend the captain might be one of those who had been snatched from a watery grave; but as time passed this hope gradually became fainter.

The lifeboat had managed to return from the wreck, to report that not a living soul remained aboard; and that the seas were so tremendous that even had it been otherwise there would have been small chance of saving them, since it was next to impossible to approach close to the vessel.

How the boy, lying there, looked with almost reverence upon those stalwart fellows who were risking their lives in the effort to save their fellow men.

Darry would never forget that hour.

The impressions he received then would remain with him through life; and in his eyes the calling of a life saver must always be reckoned the noblest vocation to which a young man could pledge himself.

He thought he would like nothing better than to become one of the band, and in some way repay the great debt he owed them by doing as he had been done by.

Presently he had so far recovered that he could get up and move around.

All of the sailors had not been equally fortunate; indeed, two of them would never again scour the seas, having taken out papers for that long voyage the end of which no mortal eye can see.

As each new arrival was carried in the boy would be the first to hasten forward, but as often his sigh echoed the heavy feeling in his heart as he discovered a face other than the familiar one he had grown to love.

One of the surfmen who had manned the lifeboat seemed to be particularly interested in the rescued boy, for he came into the station several times to ask how he was feeling, and if there was not something more he wanted.

He was a tall, angular fellow, with a thin but engaging face, and Darry had heard some of the others call him Abner Peake.

Somehow he found himself drawn toward this man from the start; and it seemed as though in losing one good friend he had found another to take the place of the kind captain.

Abner was a native of the shore, and spoke in the peculiar dialect of the uneducated Southerner; but as a water-dog he knew no superior, and it is this quality that Uncle Sam looks for when making up his crews to man the life-saving stations that dot the whole coast from Maine to Florida.

There was a twang about his voice that reminded Darry of a negro he had once had for a shipmate on the brigantine; but at the same time his tone was soft, and inspired confidence.

“Better hev a leetle more coffee, bub?” he said, coming upon Darry as the latter turned away white-faced from the last body carried in by the rough men.

“Perhaps it would do me good; I still feel mighty weak; but I’m glad to be here instead of out there,” replied Darry, pointing to where the white-capped waves were rushing in long lines toward the beach.

“Course yuh be, bub.  And we-uns air glad tuh get a chanct tuh pull yuh outen the water.  My old woman’d like tuh set eyes on yuh.  Jest the age our Joe would a-ben if he’d pulled through,” and the rough surfman swept his sleeve across his eyes as he spoke.

The secret of his interest in Darry was out; he had lost a boy of his own, and his heart was very tender still, so that the sight of this poor shipwrecked lad brought back his own sorrow keenly.

“You haven’t seen anything of the captain, I suppose?” anxiously asked Darry, wondering if it could possibly be that he had missed sight of his friend at the time he was lying there unconscious.

Abner Peake shook his head in the negative.

He saw the boy was very eager to learn of the mariner’s fate, and well he knew that with each passing minute the chances of the other surviving the pounding of the seas became less and less.

It was now not far from dawn.

The hurricane still blew with its old violence, and there was scant hope of its passing for another twelve hours at least.

All that time those devoted men must be on the watch, ready to man their surfboat again and take their lives in hand, should another vessel strike the dangerous reefs that were marked upon the chart as the worst within a hundred miles of Hatteras.

Sick at heart over the loss of his wise friend and benefactor, Darry found the interior of the station almost unbearable just then.

He felt as though he must get outside where the elements rioted, and watch the incoming waves for some sign of the captain.

But this new-found friend declared that it could do no good, since the beach was already patrolled by those whose keen eyes would discover the faintest trace of a brave swimmer trying to buffet the cruel waves; he must remain under cover, so as to escape the possible evil results of his late experience.

And so Darry had to once more lie down and let the other cover him with a blanket, a pillow having been placed under his head.

He was utterly exhausted, and it had only been hope and excitement that had buoyed him up until now.

As he lay there watching the various things that were being done for the relief of the poor fellows snatched from a watery grave he found his eyes growing heavy, and occasionally closing in spite of his efforts to remain awake.

Once he sat up as some men came in bearing another sailor who, alas, had apparently been dragged out of the sea too late to save the spark of life; but, upon learning that it was not the one in whose fate he was so keenly interested, Darry had fallen back again upon his hard pillow.

Soon after things faded from his sight, and he slept the sleep of weariness, for every muscle in his body was as sore as though it had been pounded with a club.

It was hours before he awoke.

At first he could not understand just where he was or how he came in such unfamiliar surroundings; but seeing the kindly face of Abner Peake bending over, he asked a mute question that the other answered with a shake of his head.

The captain’s body had not as yet come ashore.