“What shall we do, Georgie?” I cried.  “I can’t be drowned!”

“Hush, Allie!” answered Georgie, bravely; “we must go right on, of course.  This place will be covered soon.  Take off your shoes.  You can climb easier.  There now! take hold of my hand.  I’ll jump over to that rock and help you to come on, too!”

Well was it for me that Georgie was a strong, agile boy, head and shoulders taller than I. I needed all his help in the homeward journey.  I tremble even yet as I think of the perils of the half mile that we traversed before darkness fell.  The rough rocks tore our hands and feet as we clambered painfully over them.  They were slippery with sea-weed and wet with the waves that from time to time rolled across them.  More than once I slipped and would have fallen into the raging water below, but for Georgie’s sustaining arm.  Looking back now to that dark evening, Georgie’s bravery and presence of mind seem wonderful to me.  He spoke little, only now and then directing me where to place my feet, but his strong, boyish hand held mine in a firm grasp, and his clear eyes saw just when to seize the opportunity, given by a receding wave, to spring from one rock to another.

“Georgie, shall we ever reach home?” I sighed at last as we gained the end of a spur of rock over which we had been walking.  Georgie made no answer, and I turned, in surprise, to look at him.  His face was very white, and his great eyes were staring out into the twilight with such a frightened gaze that I looked about me with a sudden increase of terror.  I had thought the worst of the way over, and in the gathering darkness had hardly noticed where we were going, following Georgie with perfect trust in his judgment.  Now I suddenly saw that we could proceed no farther.  We stood, as I have said, on a long ridge of rock.  Before us, at our very feet, was the wildly surging water, tearing at the rocks as if to wrest them from their foundation.  Beyond, we could see the strong cliffs again, but far out of reach.  Behind were only the narrow rocks over which we had come; and on either side the cruel sea cut us off from all hope of gaining the land.  I sank on the slippery sea-weed, in an agony of terror, sobbing out my mother’s name.  Georgie sat down beside me.  “Don’t cry, Allie!” he said, in a trembling voice.  “Please don’t!  We may be saved yet.  Perhaps they’ll come after us in a boat.  Or we can stay here till morning.”

“But oh!  I want to go home!  I want mamma,” I sobbed; “and I’m so cold and tired, and my feet ache so!  O Georgie, can’t we go on?”

Georgie was silent for a few moments.  “No,” he said, at last, “we must stay here, but don’t be afraid.  Here, I’m not cold, take my coat, and I’ll tie our handkerchiefs round your feet.  There, lean on me, now.  We must hold on to the rock, you know, or we might tumble.  Now, let’s both scream ‘help’ as loud as we can.  May be, some one will hear us and come.”