white shoulders high into the air, curved up and fell in thunder on the
reef.

The canoe rode towards the breakers, sucked upon its course by a
swelling sea.

"Good-bye," called Geoffrey to Beatrice, as stretching out his wet hand
he found her own and took it, for companionship makes death a little
easier.

"Good-bye," she cried, clinging to his hand. "Oh, why did I bring you
into this?"

For in their last extremity this woman thought rather of her companion
in peril than of herself.

One more turn, then suddenly the canoe beneath them was lifted like a
straw and tossed high into the air. A mighty mass of water boiled up
beneath it and around it. Then the foam rushed in, and vaguely Geoffrey
knew that they were wrapped in the curve of a billow.

A swift and mighty rush of water. Crash!--and his senses left him.



CHAPTER IV

THE WATCHER AT THE DOOR

This was what had happened. Just about the centre of the reef is a large