Weakened by
lack of food, and buffetted by cross currents, both were decidedly
exhausted by the time their lowering feet finally touched bottom. Natalie
staggered, faint and dizzy from the exertion, but West grasped her in his
arms before she could fall, and carried her across the sand beach to the
foot of the cliff. She laughed as he laid her gently down in the soft
sand, putting up her arms to him like a child, and drawing his face down
until their lips met.
"Oh," she exclaimed breathlessly, "That was glorious, but I hardly had
enough strength left to make it. It--it was an awfully long way."
"There are currents off shore," he explained. "That was what made the
swimming so difficult. You are all right now."
"Yes; at least I think so," she sat up. "Why, it is almost dark already.
I cannot see the old raft at all. I--I wish it would come ashore; it gave
you to me, Matt."
"And you are not sorry, even now, safe here on shore?"
"Sorry! Why I am the happiest girl in all the world this minute. I can
hardly think about that money at all, or those scoundrels trying to rob
me. I am here with you, and you love me--what more can I ask? Is that
silly, dear?"
He laughed, and kissed her, neither giving a thought to their dripping
garments, or a regret for the hardships they had passed through. They
were there alone, safe, together--all else for the moment mattered not.
"Yes, I love you, Natalie, dear," he answered.
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