"
"I know it will be. But it doesn't _look_ likely, does it, papa!"
"Not the least likely, my dear. Do you remember that stormy night when I
came through your room to go out for a walk in the dark?"
"Remember it, papa? I cannot forget it. Every time I hear the wind blowing
when I wake in the night I fancy you are out in it, and have to wake myself
up' quite to get rid of the thought."
"Well, Connie, look down into the great hollow there, with rocks and sand
at the bottom of it, stretching far away."
"Yes, papa."
"Now look over the side of your litter. You see those holes all about
between the stones?"
"Yes, papa."
"Well, one of those little holes saved my life that night, when the great
gulf there was full of huge mounds of roaring water, which rushed across
this breakwater with force enough to sweep a whole cavalry regiment off its
back."
"Papa!" exclaimed Connie, turning pale.
Then first I told her all the story. And Wynnie listened behind.
"Then I _was_ right in being frightened, papa!" cried Connie, bursting into
tears; for since her accident she could not well command her feelings.
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