"But tell me of the past, Marion. Where did I come from, and how did I get here?"
"It's a long story, Jack. Do you see yonder wreck, on Hemlock Bluff rocks?"
"To be sure I do."
"Well, when that wreck came ashore, between ten and eleven years ago, you had been one of the passengers on the boat."
"Me!"
"Yes. I have heard mother tell of it several times. It was a fearful night and Old Ben, he was our slave then, was out on the bluff watching. Presently there was the booming of a signal gun—showing the ship was in distress—and soon the ship came in sight, rocking to and fro, with the wild waves running over her deck. Not a soul was left on board, captain and crew having all gone down in the ocean beyond."
"But where did they find me?"
"On the beach. Old Ben heard a cry of pain and ran in the direction of the sound. Soon he made out the form of a woman, your mother. She had been hurt by being hit with some wreckage. You were in her arms, and as Old Ben came up you cried out: 'Jack is hungry. Give Jack some bread and butter, please.'"
"Yes, yes! I remember something of a storm and of the awful waves. But it's all dreamy-like."
"You were only three or four years old, and the exposure nearly cost you your life. Old Ben took you and your mother to the boathouse and then ran up to the plantation for help. Father went back with him, along with half a dozen men, and they brought you and your mother to the house. I remember that time well, for I was nearly seven years old."