Not only this, but last week, Lucielle, Donald's fiance had disappeared, on the same night as the attack. She had obviously seen too much.

The people who were kidnapped by the pirates were rarely seen again. This was the reason that Donald was watching, together with five of his friends, on the night they suspected the next raid. The sea was raging and the ragged rocks were silhouetted by the new moon. Then a boat appeared in the dark bay, creaking and heaving about in the choppy waves. The wreckers were at work, for the ship was advancing steadily onto the rocks.

Remmings, the squire, saw the false light of the wreckers, and, together with the other five men, made for the spot. They approached with caution, creeping up behind a gang of about five men. Then suddenly a band of wreckers, eight in all, attacked from the rear. The townsfolk, especially Donald, fought desperately, but when Donald had a moment to spare he looked up and saw that most of his companions had run off and that he was now alone, with the thirteen wreckers. In the scuffles the lamp had been dropped, and the ship in the bay was in complete confusion. For fear of being caught, they tied and gagged Donald and made off to a large rowing boat. After about half an hour they arrived at their ship, about a quarter of a mile from the shore. They forced Donald up the rope ladder, and once on board, roughly pushed him into a small dark room. The door was slammed shut and Donald was left all alone, except for the sniffing, scurrying rats, whose wicked eyes gleamed in the dark as though they were just ready to attack him. He sat for a while, pondering on the happenings of the day. His thoughts turned to Lucielle, when just at that moment, the door was unbolted and Lucielle herself was thrown into the room. Donald quickly lit a match and saw in the dim, flickering light her pale face. She had been treated well, acting as maid to the Captain and his first mate.

Their plan was to escape. That night they spent most of their time loosening the floor boards, and by dawn the next morning they had broken through to the next cabin.

By the time it was fully light, they had armed themselves, and seen that they were but a short distance from the shore, over the Silvery Sands.

They dived into the waters, the splash must have been heard, for it was not long before the ship was racing after them.

But the tide was receding quickly, and soon the sinking sands would be covered by only a foot of water. Donald and Lucielle swam on, when suddenly Lucielle slowed clown and sank below the water. The boat raced on, as Donald turned and swam back to the place where she had disappeared. He dived below the surface, the water being only five feet deep. It was too late; cramp and sinking sands had swallowed her up. The ship had now stopped, stuck fast in the shivering grave.

Donald reached the shore and looked back over the sun dappled sea, as the large mast and a memory of a nightmare disappeared, a victim to the Silvery Sands.