CAMERON. One day the father pulled over for his little one as usual. He saw her from the boat, and it iss said she kissed her hand to him. Then in a moment more he reached the island, but she was gone.
MARY ROSE. Gone?
CAMERON. She had heard the call of the island, though no sound came to him.
MARY ROSE. Doesn’t it make one shiver!
CAMERON. My father was one of the searchers; for many days they searched.
MARY ROSE. But it would not take many minutes to search this darling little island.
CAMERON. They searched, ma’am, long after there was no sense in searching.
MARY ROSE. What a curdling story! Simon dear, it might have been Mary Rose. Is there any more?
CAMERON. There iss more. It was about a month afterwards. Her father was walking on the shore, over there, and he saw something moving on the island. All in a tremble, ma’am, he came across in the boat, and it was his little miss.
MARY ROSE. Alive?