“Go build me a boat,
All lightly to float
And away o’er the waters so free
We’ll row, we’ll row,
We’ll cheerily row.”
Rosebud sprang to meet them.
“Safe?” she whispered.
“Safe!” cried Bertha. “Where is the boat?”
“This way,” said Rosebud; “come with me.”
Bertha threw her arm about Rosebud, and, as they thus walked along upon the sands, listening to the rush of the night breeze through the tall beach-grass, and to the never-ending song of the sea, the stars twinkling down upon them all the while, she put to her many questions. Was granny really her grandmother? How long had they lived there? Who were her parents? Where were they? Why was she not with them?