“Did you?  Well, to be honest, so did I, for a while.  In fact, I’m not absolutely sure that I’m not, even yet.  You’ll excuse me if I lie down again, won’t you?  I never tried a seaweed pillow before, but it isn’t so bad.”

He again stretched himself on the sand.  Seth shook his head.

“Well, if this don’t beat me!” he exclaimed.  “You’re the coolest critter that ever I—­I—­”

“I am cool,” admitted the young man, with a slight shiver.  “This stretch of ocean here isn’t exactly a Turkish bath.  I’ve been swimming since—­well, an hour or two ago, and I am just a little chilled.”

He shivered again.

“Swimmin’!  An hour or two?  Where on earth did you come from?”

“Oh, I fell overboard from a steamer off here somewhere.  I—­”

Another and emphatic shiver caused him to pause.  The lightkeeper awoke to the realities of the situation.

“Good land of love!” he exclaimed.  “What am I thinkin’ of?  Seein’ you this way, and you talkin’ so kind of every-day and funny drove my senses clean out, I guess.  Get right up off that wet place this minute.  Come up to the house, quick!  Can you walk?”

“Don’t know.  I am willing to try.  Would you mind giving me a lift?”

Seth didn’t mind, which was fortunate, as his new acquaintance couldn’t have risen unaided.  His knees shook under him when he stood erect, and he leaned heavily on the lightkeeper’s arm.

“Steady now,” counselled Atkins; “no hurry.  Take it easy.  If you’ve navigated water all alone for hours, I cal’late between us we can manage to make a five-minute cruise on dry land. . . .  Even if the course we steer would make an eel lame tryin’ to follow it,” he added, as the castaway staggered and reeled up the beach.  “Now don’t try to talk.  Let your tongue rest and give your feet a chance.”

The climbing of the steep bluff was a struggle, but they accomplished it, and at length the stranger was seated in a chair in the kitchen.

“Now, the fust thing,” observed Seth, “is to get them wet clothes off you.  Usually I’d have a good fire here, but that miserable Ezry has—­that is, my assistant’s left me, and I have to go it alone, as you might say.  So we’ll get you to bed and . . .  No, you can’t undress yourself, neither.  Set still, and I’ll have you peeled in a jiffy.”

His guest was making feeble efforts to remove his socks.  Atkins pushed him back into the chair and stripped the blue and dripping rags from feet which were almost as blue from cold.  The castaway attempted a weak resistance, but gave it up and said, with a whimsical smile: 

“I’m mightily obliged to you.  I never realized before that a valet was such a blessing.  Most of mine have been confounded nuisances.”

“Hey?” queried Seth, looking up.

“Nothing.  Pardon me for comparing you with a valet.”

“Land sakes!  I don’t care what you call me.  I was out of my head once myself—­typhoid fever ’twas—­and they say the things I called the doctor was somethin’ scandalous.  You ain’t responsible.  You’re beat out, and your brain’s weak, like the rest of you.  Now hold on till I get you a nightgown.”