I did not realize at the time how very right Thank was, and what it meant to be canyonized by Dao Singh.
The report came forward that the little girl had taken some of the broth the cook had made, was seemingly satisfied with her surroundings, and had gone to sleep again. Mr. Barney told me that Cap’n Bowditch was peeking in at her every hour or so, and that it was plain the old man was prepared to get down on the deck and let his little visitor walk on him—if she so desired.
But in the morning watch they called me and I found that the girl wanted to go up on deck, but had asked to be lifted by the boy who had taken her from the wrecked boat. She remembered me, then! And I had not really supposed she had seen me until after I had lain her down in the berth and she had opened her eyes.
She had had some breakfast. There was a little flush in her face. She looked much brighter, and when she saw me she smiled delightfully.
“I know your face!” she said, and although her voice was weak, it was as sweet as a tinkling silver bell. “I was sure I could not be mistaken.”
“Mistaken?” I asked, puzzled.
“Yes. You were the boy I saw before—oh, long, long before I came here.”
That puzzled me, and I suppose my face must have shown my surprise. She laughed—a pretty, resonant chime. I fell for that voice of hers!
And then what she said about seeing me so long before got me going, too.
“Say, you never saw me before I got you out of that boat,” I declared.