"And we knew, Toddie, something terrible would soon happen. Mammy had hot water and blankets ready ever so long. Then the brig struck. Long before then Bunko had been sent off on horseback to warn a lifeboat. But the lifeboat never came. And small matter that she didn't. Hours after a spar floated up. We saw something white lashed to it, and all rushed to pick it up. I was first, and found you, Toddie."
"Oh!" thoughtfully.
"Mammy Mop took hours to bring you back to life. We have the old spar yet in the sail-house; it was loaded with iron—old axe heads—to make a keel; so, Toddie, you floated face upwards. That is the way you came, Toddie."
"Oh!"
"Dear little Treasure-trove. I hope you will not be taken from me."
He gathered her closer up to him.
"Sing now," she murmured, "sing soft and low, like mammy does."
He sat rocking her there, and singing low, sweet Scotch hits, till her regular breathing and closed eyes told him she was fast asleep.
Then he gently laid her on the bench, while he put on his plaid.
Every moment now the waves dashed high over the ports of the cave, and the wind shrieked like the voices of creatures in pain or despair.