d the
shore, she standing on my shoulders and stooping a little in order to
hold my hands tightly.

It was joy unspeakable to feel the little fingers in mine, for this was
the first time that my flesh touched hers, and with the touch a thrill
of gladness, the like of which I had never felt before, passed through
my whole being.

I carried her safely. At that time rocks and roaring breakers were
nothing to me, the buffeting of the waves against my body I felt not one
whit! I think she must have felt my great strength, for when I had
carried her a few yards she laughed, and the laugh had no fear.

"You feel quite safe?" I asked presently, when I had got away from the
rocks.

"Quite safe," she said, and so I carried her on until I stood on the
smooth yellow sands, and although the waves still broke, I felt their
force not at all, for the thought of her trusting me made my sinews
like willow thongs.

Right sorry was I when the water no longer touched my feet, and I must
confess that I lingered over the last part of the journey, so pleasant
was my burden, and so glad a thing was it to feel her fingers fastening
themselves around mine. Perhaps she regarded me as she might regard a
fisherman who might have rendered her a similar service, but it did not
matter. I, whom she had seen pilloried as a vagrant and a street
brawler, held her fast, and my love grew stronger minute by minute.

When I put her on the sands, only her feet were wet, and no one could
tell of the position in which she had been.

I shook myself after I had put her down, and I was almost sorry I had
done so immediately afterward, for I could see that my condition made
her sorry for me, and I did not want to be pitied.

"You must get dry clothes at once," she said.

"I have none," I said, unthinkingly, "save my jacket and waistcoat,
which lie on yon rock."

"But you will be very cold."

I laughed gaily. "It is nothing," I said, "the sun will not go down for
three hours yet, and before that time my rags will be dry."

"I am very thankful to you," she said; "I cannot swim, and but for you I
should have been drowned."

"Oh, no," I replied; "you could have climbed to the top of the rock, and
waited till the tide went out again."

"No, I should have been afraid. You have been very kind and very good to
me. I was very foolish to get there, but it was very tempting to climb
on the rock and sit and watch the sea. I must have fallen asleep in the
sun,