At Greycliff Hall, meantime, the greatest alarm and concern was felt at the suddenness and fury of the storm. “I tell you, they can not have reached the Island,” declared Dr. Carver. A group of the teachers had gathered in Miss Randolph’s parlor where Miss Randolph herself was standing at her window quietly watching the storm. She had thrown on her raincoat, seized an umbrella and announced that she was going down to have a look at the lake. But when, against the protests of some of the teachers, she tried to open the front door and was thrown back nearly over, she gave up the attempt.

“That was the finest senior academy class we’ve had in years,” sadly asserted one of the music teachers who had been at Greycliff for a long time.

“‘Was!’” exclaimed Alma, who with one of the other girls had come in on some errand. “She is always an old ‘calamity-howler’!”

“Sh-sh! She’ll hear you.”

Miss Randolph, with the air of one who could not bear any more, beckoned to Alma and opening the door of her inner room, disappeared, Alma following and closing the door. “Send for Dr. Matthews, please, Alma. He was in the laboratory this morning before the storm. Have some one hunt him up.” Dr. Matthews was the older professor in sciences and Miss Randolph often called him into counsel. He was already striding down the corridor, feeling that whether anything could be done or not it would be well to have some plan, and met Alma not far from Miss Randolph’s parlor door.

“Please go into the office, Dr. Matthews,” said Alma. “Miss Randolph sent me for you, and I don’t think she wants to consult you with all those other teachers in there. Some of them have already given up hope and are talking about the dear departed!”

Dr. Matthews was a strong, comfortable looking man, well-poised, calm in an emergency and sensible in judgment. He smiled at Alma’s remark and disappeared into the office, which opened upon the same corridor. Alma went back to call Miss Randolph, who in turn summoned one or two of the other teachers and the few went into executive session in the office.

“No,” said Dr. Matthews in reply to a question from Miss Randolph, “it is useless to attempt anything now. I tried to telephone to Greycliff a little while ago and got no reply. I think the wires are down. But this can not last long, I think, and it is only a short distance to Greycliff. And no boat would dare start out now. A storm like this is unusual and has doubtless done much damage to the shipping all along the lake. But Providence cares for those children of ours as much as we do. We must be hopeful and courageous. As soon as the storm lessens a little I will go myself to Greycliff, on one of the horses, for no one knows how the roads will be. With your permission, Miss Randolph I shall engage one of the big boats to go after the girls. Remember that they had two men besides Norris to look after them.” But remembering that Miss West was there, too, with Dr. Norris, did not console anybody very much.

In the parlors were sober girls, talking excitedly, or watching the storm at the front windows. Isabel, who “hated waterworks,” was walking around all unconscious of the tears running down her cheeks. Avalon sat in one of the big chairs, a disconsolate heap. Virginia was trying to keep up her spirits. “Wait till you know it’s happened, kiddie,” she was saying. “Every one of ’em can swim!”

“O, yes, but who could swim in a storm like that?”

“Maybe they got there.”

“Yes, and maybe they didn’t.”

Isabel came wandering back from the windows and drew up a chair near Virginia. “You’ve got a good name, Virginia Hope,” said she.

“Yes, except for myself when I get discouraged,—but look, girls, it’s getting lighter.”

“And it isn’t raining so much!”

“I don’t believe that the wind is so dreadful, either.”

“I haven’t seen any lightning for some time.”

“Listen!” The girls heard the hoof-beats of Dr. Matthews’ horse, as it clattered over the new cement driveway. “He’s going for help!” exclaimed Isabel. “But they’re either safe on shore or not,—nobody could get to them in time.”

“But they always have life preservers,” said Virginia.

“Yes,—if they can stand the waves.”

“Who do you suppose has gone to Greycliff?”

“Don’t you imagine the riding master?”

“No; he lives at Greycliff.”

In about an hour, after the storm was over a reporter appeared upon the scene. He was shown into the reception room, and fearing that the authorities would not see him, he sought whatever information he could get from the girls. This was a good deal, for under excitement some of the girls forgot their proper reserve and told the who, when and where, in all the details which the reporter wanted for a good story. Thus it came about that on the streets of New York and in the other places where dwelt the parents of the senior academy girls the newsboys cried, “Terrible disaster at girls’ school. Read about the storm. More than twenty girls drowned when the Greycliff goes down!”

“The Greycliff!” thought Philip Van Buskirk, as he ran out from the building where his father’s office was located, to buy a paper.

Dr. Lancaster was on his way from calling on a sick parishioner, his thoughts already somber from the near presence of death, when he heard the news called.

In still another city, a white-faced mother read her daughter’s name in the list of those thought to be lost. Mrs. North had picked up the evening papers from her front steps where it had been thrown as usual.

Miss Randolph’s first inkling that the news had been sent over the country was when the first telegram arrived, one from Philip Van Buskirk, who hoped to get better news before his father and mother should hear the first report. Her immediate reply, one which had to be sent out to more than one address, was: “Greycliff in storm. Hope all is well. Will telegraph.”

Dr. Norris was a strong swimmer, but even he was almost exhausted by the time he brought in two of the girls who had been carried some distance out from the shallow waters in which the Greycliff had been upset. Patty, shivering with cold and nervousness, bravely waded into the waters, watching for the treacherous waves and helped the men draw in the exhausted girls. Jack had appeared but had to be helped in, having broken his left arm as a wave tossed him against the Greycliff. Hilary, Pauline and Juliet had been among those who had at once reached the rope, and after a little rest had been able to help the rest. They busied themselves over Cathalina and Lilian first, for both those girls were almost unconscious by the time they were dragged in by Mickey. Helen and Eloise were among those farthest away on the rope, having clutched it just before a pounding wave upon the Greycliff tore the boat away and left the rope loose upon the water except where the weight of the girls drew it toward the sands.

“Have we got ’em all, Miss West?” asked Mickey as he swept the waters with searching eyes and holding to the rope made ready to go in again.

Miss West had been eagerly keeping count and answered promptly, “Every one at last! What shall we do next, Robert?”

“Get a fire, if we can, or find some shelter first for these girls.” He looked around at the various prone figures and added, “Are all of them coming to?”

“I don’t know about Dorothy Appleton, Dr. Norris,” replied Hilary. “I think she must have been struck by the boat in some way. There is an awful bruise on her forehead. And Eloise is breathing all right now, but she doesn’t seem to come to. We’re trying to keep the rain from them.”

The wind was growing colder since the storm began, and though the rain was not so heavy, the party was in much danger from continued chilling.

“Can we get them around to the cave?” asked Patty.

“We will,” replied Dr. Norris and Mickey with one accord. Most of the girls could walk and the men carried the rest, even Jack helping with his one good arm. It was of some relief to get out of the chill wind which penetrated their drenched garments and sapped what little strength the girls had left. Jack gave up to his suffering when all were once in the cave and Dr. Norris set about making him a little more comfortable, if such a thing were possible. Mickey was exploring and found some matches left by one of the picnic parties of the summer, for the Greycliffers were not the only visitants of the Island.

“As soon as the rain stops we’ll have a fire, we will,” said Mickey, picking up a few dry sticks in the cave. “I stuck a bundle of wood to dry here last year,” said he, “and I’ll see if it’s still here.”

Fortune favored them, for not only was the dry wood there, but an old kettle, which they had left because it leaked, turned up, with a can partly full of coffee. The rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun. In a place close to shelving rocks which sheltered them from the wind and where some trees had made a half circle on another side, Mickey and Dr. Norris made a roaring fire and boiled the coffee. “Never mind the lake water,” said Mickey. “We can’t get around to the spring and we’ll boil the germs out of anything with this fire!”

The girls who were able to keep active, warmed themselves by their very activity and turning first one side, then another, to the hot fire. The injured girls were braced up against the rocks as close to the fire as seemed best, while the other girls and Miss West took turns in chafing their hands and trying to get them to swallow a little hot coffee. But it was discouraging, for there was no dry clothing to put on them, sweaters and raincoats having gone to the bottom with the Greycliff. Helen and Hilary were almost in tears as they worked over Eloise, while Lilian and Cathalina could not seem to rouse from their exhaustion, though they drank a little coffee and declared that they were all right, in answer to their friends’ eager inquiries. But at best it was a hard situation for the whole party, and despair seemed near at times, as the outlook for the two girls who seemed to have been injured was not favorable. The lake was still lashed into a fury and it seemed that aid could scarcely arrive before night. Betty kept insisting that Miss Randolph would get a boat to them some way, but even the courage of Mickey and Dr. Norris went under a cloud, and they doggedly kept on bringing wood to the fire. Several hours went by. The wind died down, but the big waves still lashed the rocks and came rolling high upon the sands.

“O, Eloise opened her eyes!” exclaimed Helen, who sat with Eloise’s head on her lap, rubbing it gently and drying her long hair. The girls by this time had dried some of their own garments and slipped them on Eloise and Dorothy as they could, removing the well-soaked clothing and putting it on sticks, or holding it out to the fire to dry.

“Dorothy shivered a little while ago, but I don’t know whether that is good or bad,” said Myrtle Wiseman, who had been very active in the work over the two girls, and had also helped Cathalina and Lilian. Betty had whispered “remorse,” to Hilary, as Myrtle brought some coffee to Lilian. But Hilary answered, “I’m glad she feels like it,” and to Myrtle said, “That is very kind, Myrtle!”

“Would you want to make up with her?” asked Betty.

“Surely. I don’t want to have any enemies. She can never make any trouble between Lilian and me again.”

“I ’spect you’re right, Hilary. And we’ve been pretty near losing our lives today. Do you think that we’ll get back?”

“O, yes, Betty, though I’m pretty worried about Eloise and Dorothy.”

Just then there came three loud blasts from a steamer.

“O, they’ve come for us! They’ve come!” exclaimed one after another, rushing to a point where they could see a large steamer tossing at some little distance.

“But they can’t get near enough to get us!”

“Don’t worry, they’ll manage it,” replied the relieved Patricia, while Dr. Norris and Mickey ran down to the beach to wave. Over the waves came one of the steamer’s life boats, and still another followed! They did not know how the party would be found, if found at all, and blankets, a doctor, and stimulants were brought to shore. The doctor at once examined Dorothy and Eloise. Of Eloise he said, “a slight concussion, not serious”; of Dorothy, that he could “tell better later.” The whole party was bundled into the life boats and taken on shipboard, not without some difficulty, but how different from what had been feared! As it was the big steamer could scarcely land at the dock where the Greycliff ’bus and an ambulance were waiting with some other closed cars. Dr. Matthews was there, with the same swift-footed horse, and after he had instructed one of the professors who lived at Greycliff to telegraph the parents, and had left the list, he galloped back to Greycliff Hall with the good news, arriving before any of the automobiles and earning the name by which he was afterward known among the girls,—“Paul Revere!” Good, practical, stout, unromantic Dr. Matthews!