“Start a fire, some o’ ye,” he commanded.

The men looked curiously at the young woman in the drenched blankets, then hastened to do the skipper’s bidding.  They found dry wood in the heart of the thicket and soon had a fire burning strongly.

“What of the others?  Am I the—­the only one?” asked the girl.

“Aye, ye bes the only one—­so far as we kin see,” replied the skipper.  “There bain’t no more lashed to the spars anyhow.”

She stared at him for a moment, then crouched close to the fire, covered her face with her hands, and wept bitterly.  The skipper groaned.  The tears of Lady Harwood had not moved him in the least; but this girl’s sobs brought a strangling pinch to his own throat.  He told two lads to keep the fire burning, and then turned and walked away with lagging feet.  Joining the men who were still tending the line that was attached to the wreck, he gazed down at the scene of tumult and pounding destruction without a word.

“The gale bes blowin’ herself out, skipper,” remarked Bill Brennen.

Nolan stared blankly for a moment, then aroused himself furiously from the strange spell that had enthralled his mind since first he had looked at the face of the girl lashed to the cross-trees.  He swore violently, then flung himself full-length at the very edge of the cliff, and studied the position of the stranded vessel.  He saw that she was firm on the rocks for almost half her length.  She was badly ripped and stove, but her back was not broken.  She seemed to be in no danger of slipping off into deep water, and as the wind and seas were moderating, she promised to hold together for several hours at least.  He got to his feet and gave his opinion of the situation to the men as if it were a law.

“She bes hard an’ fast,” he said.  “Wid the weather liftin’, she’ll not fall abroad yet awhile, nor she don’t be in any risk o’ slidin’ astarn an’ founderin’.  We has plenty o’ time to break out the cargo, men, after the sea quiets a bit.  Aye, plenty o’ time to sculp her.  Now, I wants four o’ ye to rig up a hammock o’ some sort, wid lines an’ a tarpaulin, an’ help me tote the lady back-along to the harbor.  Step lively, men!”

A few of the men ventured to show something of the amazement which they all felt by staring at him, round-eyed and open-mouthed; but he glared them down in short order.  So four of them set about the construction of a hammock and the others crowded along the cliff and gazed down at the unfortunate ship.  For awhile they gazed in silence; for wonder, and the fear of the skipper, were heavy upon them.  What madness was this that had so suddenly come upon him?  Had prosperity and power already turned his head?  Or could it be that the young woman he had found on the wreck was a fairy of some kind, and had bewitched him with the glance of her sea-eyes?  Or perhaps she was a mermaid?  Or perhaps she was nothing but a human who had been born on an Easter Sunday—­an