A step sounded behind the watcher in the bows.  Mrs. Bascom was at his elbow.

“Why, Seth!” she cried, “why, Seth! it’s Eastboro, ain’t it?  We’re close to Eastboro.”

Seth nodded.  “It’s Eastboro,” he said.  “I cal’lated we must be there or thereabouts.  With that no’theast breeze to help us we couldn’t do much else but fetch up at the inner end of the Back Harbor.”

She laid her hand timidly on his arm.

“Seth,” she whispered, “what should we have done without you?  You saved our lives.”

He swung about and faced her.  “Emeline,” he said, “we’ve both been awful fools.  I’ve been the biggest one, I guess.  But I’ve learned my lesson—­I’ve swore off—­I told you I’d prove I was a man.  Do you think I’ve been one tonight?”

“Seth!”

“Well, do you?  Or,” with a gesture toward the “genius” who was beginning to take an interest in his surroundings, “do you like that kind better?”

“Seth,” reproachfully, “I never liked him better.  If you had—­”

She was interrupted by her brother-in-law, who came swaggering toward them.  With the sight of land and safety, Bennie D.’s courage returned; also, his old assurance.

“Humph!” he observed.  “Well, sister, we are safe, I really believe.  In spite of,” with a glare at the lightkeeper, “this person’s insane recklessness and brutality.  Now I will take you ashore and out of his presence.”

Seth rose to his feet.

“Didn’t I tell you,” he demanded, “not to move till I said the word?  Emeline, stay right here.”

Bennie D. stared at the speaker; then at his sister-in-law.

“Sister,” he cried, in growing alarm, “sister, come! come! we’re going ashore, I tell you.  What are you waiting for?”

Seth put his arm about the lady.

“She is goin’ ashore,” he said.  “But she’s goin’ with me, and she’s goin’ to stay with me.  Ain’t you, Emeline?”

The lady looked up into his face and then down again.  “If you want me, Seth,” she said.

Bennie D. sprang forward.  “Emeline,” he shrieked, “what do you mean?  Are you going to leave me?  Have you forgotten—­”

“She ain’t forgot nothin’,” broke in Seth.  “But you’re forgettin’ what I told you.  Will you go aft there and set down, or shall I make you?”

“But—­but, Emeline—­sister—­have you forgotten your promise to your dying husband?  To my brother?  You promised to give me a home as long as you owned one.”

Then Seth played his trump.

“She don’t own any home,” he declared triumphantly.  “She sold her house, and she ain’t got any home—­except the one I’m goin’ to give her.  And if you ever dare to show your head inside of that, I’ll—­I’ll heave you over both lights.  If you think I’m foolin’, just try and see.  Now then, Emeline.”

And, with his wife in his arms, Seth Atkins—­Seth Atkins Bascom—­Captain Seth Atkins Bascom—­swung over the rail and waded to land.