"In my glass I see hope and confidence," said O'Neil. "May the
storm profit him who most deserves help."

Despite their lightness, there was a certain gravity among the
four, and as the night became more threatening they felt a
growing suspense. The men's restlessness communicated itself to
the girls, who found themselves listening with almost painful
intentness to the voice of the wind and the rumble of the surf,
which grew louder with every hour. By bed-time a torrent of rain
was sweeping past, the roof strained, the windows were sheeted
with water. Now and then the clamor ceased, only to begin with
redoubled force. Trevor's guests were glad indeed of their snug
shelter.

As Natalie prepared for bed she said: "It was fine of Mr. Trevor
to treat Murray O'Neil so nicely. No one would dream that they
were rivals, or that one's success means the other's ruin. Now
Gordon--" She turned to see her friend kneeling at the bedside,
and apologized quickly.

Eliza lifted her face and said simply, "I'm praying for the
Wind."

Natalie slipped down beside her and bowed her dark head close to
the light one. They remained there for a long time, while outside
the rain pelted, the surf roared, and the wind came shrieking in
from the sea.