“Oh, I am certain of it!” said Harry. “Nellie never does lose her head. She won’t want us to drown, so she’ll hurry up.”
“Give me your hand, Pen,” said Pauline. “You are a very brave little girl to let the other little girl go first. I am glad you did it.”
“Will God remember that about me by-and-by?” asked Pen.
“I hope so,” replied Pauline, with a shiver.
She took Pen’s icy hand and began to rub it.
“It isn’t at all good for you to shiver like this,” she said. “Here is a bright piece of sunshine. Let us run up and down in the sunshine. It doesn’t seem, somehow, as though anybody could drown when the sun shines.”
“Maybe the boat will be in time,” said Harry.
They ran up and down for some time, and then stood quiet. Pauline was very silent. Beside the other two children she felt quite old and grown-up. She had got Pen into this terrible scrape; it was her mission to help them both. If they must all die, she at least would have to show courage. She was not ready to die. She knew that fact quite well. But she had naturally plenty of pluck, and fearful as her present surroundings were, she would not have been afraid but for that ugly black thing which rested on her conscience. Penelope looked full into her face. There was something also pricking Penelope’s conscience. The three children stood close together on the little white patch of sand which had not yet been covered by the waves. The wind was getting up, and the waves were mounting higher; they rushed farther and farther up the bay, and curled and swept and enjoyed themselves, and looked as though they were having a race up the white sands. Pauline made a rapid calculation, and came to the conclusion that they had about half-an-hour to live; for the bay was a very shallow one, and when the wind was in its present quarter the tide rose rapidly. She looked back at the rocks behind her, and saw that high-water mark, even on ordinary occasions, was just above their heads. This was what is called a spring-tide. There was not the least hope.
“If only we could climb up,” she thought.
Then Penelope gave her hand a great tug. She looked down. Pen went on tugging and tugging.