Then my thoughts flew off to Mrs. Erveng,--how surly and disagreeable I had behaved to her! Not once had I offered her the slightest attention; instead, I had got out of her way at every chance. I had called this being very sincere, honest, above deceit; but it did not seem like that to me now. And there was Hilliard,--I had laughed at him, been rude to him, despised him for being a coward, I was _so_ sure of my own courage; and what was I _now?_ I was ashamed--_ashamed!_ Oh, how my heart ached!
Then I began saying my prayers. The water was up to my waist now; it came with such force that it swayed me from side to side, and beat me against the rock to which I still clung. My fingers were cramped by my tight grip; the next wave, or perhaps the next to that, would sweep me off--away--to death!
I prayed from my very heart, with all my strength and soul, and it seemed as if the other things--the waves, the storm, the terrible death--grew fainter; a feeling came to me that I was speaking right into God's ear--that He was very near to me.
Somewhere out of the roar and awfulness of the storm came a human voice,--a cry: "_Betty! Betty! hold on! hold on! I can save you--only hold on!_" And when I opened my eyes, there was a boat coming nearer and nearer, dancing on the top of the waves like a cockle shell, and in it was Hilliard!
"I can't--come--too--close," he shouted. "Jump--with--the--next--wave."
I understood; and with the next receding wave I leaped into the water,--a wild plunge, scarcely seeing where I was going.
But Hilliard's hands caught me and hauled me into the boat, where I sank down, and lay huddled up, confused, and trembling so that I couldn't speak. Hilliard threw something over me,--the rain was coming down in torrents,--and then he pulled with all his might for the shore.
Presently my senses began to come back; I knew what a terrible strain it must be to row in such a storm,--though fortunately the tide was with us,--and he had come out in it for me. I felt I ought to take my share of the work. "I--can--row. Let--me--take--an--oar," I said slowly, sitting up.
"Not an oar,--I need both," Hilliard answered decidedly; then he added persuasively, "Be a good girl, Betty, and just keep in the bottom of the boat."