They continued to look into each others’ eyes for a few moments, when a gleam of satisfaction beamed in Amy’s countenance. Her bosom heaved, and instantly she threw her arms around him, and passionately exclaimed:
I am Amy Powers—your long lost Amy. Walter! Oh, Walter!
She could say no more, and willingly remained in his arms.
Walter looked down into her sweet and agitated face a moment, and a thousand memories flashed across his mind. In his arms lay the mature woman. In her he saw the girl of his childhood—his long lost Amy. And here, locked in each other’s embrace, we must leave them, and turn our attention to other parties.
Drake jumped ashore, and saw, as he supposed, Amy, standing on the west side of the island. He ran to her and clasped her in his arms and smothered her with kisses, exclaiming:
Sister? dear sister! You are saved. I was afraid that you would be either killed or drowned.
See here young man, said Cora. I guess that you are a persistent lover, and have learned the art of hugging and kissing to perfection—not that I have any particular fault to find—in fact, I rather like it, at least I would if it was meant for me. But it is meant for that other girl. I am not Amy, my name is Cora.
Oh, Amy, Drake continued. Don’t you know me? Don’t you know your brother? Look at me Amy.
Oh, young man, I see you plain enough, and rather like your looks. But I am not your sister. I don’t know you. I never saw you before.
Oh, Amy, this is terrible. The Indians have turned your head, deprived you of reason, and caused you to forget your best friends. But you will know the mark on my breast, tearing his shirt open and bringing to view the anchor and ship.