“We must go home, Allie!” he cried.  “What if we were to be caught in a shower!”

Just as he was speaking, a peal of thunder crashed and boomed right above us, and I clung to the boy, sobbing for very terror.

“O Georgie!” I cried, “don’t go out.  We’ll be killed!  Oh, what shall we do?”

But Georgie only laughed blithely, saying, “No, we wont go if you don’t want to.  Let’s play it’s a concert and the thunder’s a drum.  It will be over in a minute,” and he began to whistle “Yankee Doodle,” in which performance I vainly endeavored to join.  But as time went on, and the storm became more violent, we were both frightened, and climbing to a ledge about half-way up the wall, sat silent, clinging to each other, and crying a little as the lightning flashed more and more vividly.  Yet, even in his own terror, Georgie was careful for me, and tried to cheer me and raise my heart.  Dear little friend, I am grateful for it now!

At last, leaning forward, I saw that the water was creeping into the cave and covering the floor with shallow, foaming waves.  Then, indeed, we were frightened.  What if the rising tide had covered the rocks outside?  We should have to stay all night in that lonely place; for, though the tide went down before midnight, the way was long and difficult, and we could not return in the darkness.

“Hurry, Allie!” cried Georgie, scrambling down the side of the cave.  “We can wade, may be.”

I followed him, and we crept out upon the beach.  The water had risen breast high already, and I was nearly thrown down by the force with which it met me.

“Lean on me, Allie,” said Georgie, throwing his arm about me and struggling onward.  “We must get to the rocks as soon as we can.”

It was with great difficulty that we passed over the narrow strip of sand below the high cliffs.  I clung wildly to Georgie, trying in vain to keep a firm footing on the treacherous sand, that seemed slipping from beneath my feet at every step.

The water had reached my neck.  I cried out with terror as I felt myself borne from my feet.  But Georgie kept hold of me, and bracing ourselves against the first low rock, we waited the coming of the great green wave that rolled surging toward us, raising its whitening crest high over our heads.  It broke directly above us, and for a moment we stood dizzy with the shock, and half blinded by the dashing salt spray.  Then we ran on as swiftly as was possible in the impeding water.  Fortunately for us, the next wave broke before it reached us, for in the rapidly rising tide we could not have resisted it.

We were thoroughly exhausted when, after a few more struggles, we at last climbed the first cliff and sat on the top, resting and looking about us for a means of escape.  It was impossible for us to scale the precipice that stretched along the beach.  We must keep to the lower crags at its foot for a mile before we could reach the firm land.  This, in the gathering twilight, was a difficult and dangerous thing to attempt.  Yet there was no other way of escape.  We could not return to the cave.  I shuddered as I looked at the foaming waves that rolled between us and it.