r 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.

"Look," she said; "stoop and look."

In the palm of Pen's hand lay the thimble.

"Take it," said Pen. "I comed with it to make mischief, but I won't never
tell now--never. Take it. Put it in your pocket. I am sorry I was so bad.
Take it."

Pauline did take the little gold thimble. She slipped it into her pocket;
then she stooped and kissed Pen.

"What are you two doing?" said Harry. "Why don't you talk to me? Can't I
do something to help? I'm ten. How old are you?"

"I was fourteen a few weeks ago," said Pauline.

"Granny!" said the boy. "Why, you are quite old; you are withering up. I
wouldn't like to be fourteen. You must know a monstrous lot. You are a
very plucky one to come through the water as you did. I wish I could
swim, and I wouldn't let the waves get the better of me; but I'm glad I
let Nellie see that I wasn't afraid of drowning. Do you mind drowning,
big, big, old girl?"

"Yes, I do," said Pauline.

"You have a queer sort of look in your eyes, like the little one has in
hers. Are you wicked, too?"

"You have guessed it," said Pauline.

"I expect we're all wicked for that matter; but we can say our prayers,
can't we?"

"Yes," said Pauline, and now her lips trembled and the color faded from
her cheeks. "Let us say them together."

"By-and-by," said Pen. "We needn't say our prayers yet. It will be some
time afore the water will touch us; won't it, Paulie?"

Pauline knew that the water would come in very quickly. Harry looked full
at Pen, and then he nodded his head. He came to Pauline and whispered
something in her ear.

"What is it?" she said.

"She's little," he said. "She's quite a baby--not eight yet. I am ten.
When the water begins to come in we'll lift her in our arms and raise her
above it; shan't we?"

"Yes; that is a very good thought," said Pauline. She looked back again
at the rocks. They were smooth as marble; there did not seem to be a
possible foothold. She felt a sense of regret that they had not gone to
the farther end of the bay, where the rocks were lower and more indented,
and where it might be possible for a brave boy and girl to get temporary
foothold; but the sea had already reached those rocks and was dashing
round them.

"I wish I had thought of it,