This first--before I realized that I had fallen asleep on the rock, and
that what I had dreamed was my sister playing, was the sound of the tide
coming in, and that I was already sprinkled from head to foot with the
spray. The Cradlebow continued calling to me cheerily, and would not give
me time to consider the terrors of the situation then, nor afterwards,
when I strove, in my half-stunned condition of mind, to weigh and
appreciate the peril from which I had been rescued.
The children had wandered a mile or more along the beach and had gone
home by another road. It was not yet dark. No alarm had been occasioned
in Wallencamp as to my absence, but the Cradlebow, knowing that I had
gone in the direction of the beach, had been moved to search for me, and
had discovered me on the rock, where, in a few moments more, I should
have waked to find myself at the mercy of the waves.
My deliverer laughed reassuringly, sending the boat leaping upon the
shore, holding out his hand to me, as though this were merely an everyday
occurrence, the close of some ordinary excursion, but, to me, life had
suddenly grown significant.
The strong warm hand which clasped mine, weak and trembling, as I stepped
from the boat, I must recognize henceforth, I knew, as the link between
me and the living world.
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