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One afternoon he was standing upon the cliff watching the coming up of what threatened to be a terrible storm.

The whole heavens to seaward were one mass of inky clouds, which were rising higher and higher, and ominous rumblings of thunder and vivid flashes of lightning grew louder and brighter as the tempest came sweeping on.

From his position on the cliff he could look down into two basins, or bays.

In one lay the little schooner at anchor, and all ship-shape to meet the coming tempest, and there, too, was his surf-skiff with a couple of boats drawn up on the beach.

The entrance to this bay was winding and dangerous in the extreme, but these very dangers of running in and out made it more sheltered and secure as a harbor.

The bay upon the other side of the cliff was larger and by no means well sheltered from a wild sea, though to an ordinary observer it appeared to be a safe anchorage for a vessel.

The lad stood upon a rock overhanging the sea, and commanding a grand view, seemingly unconscious that a false step would hurl him into the waters eighty feet below.