It was not raining now, although there was a vapory mist in the atmosphere, almost a drizzle.

I sat up, and touched her hand where it grasped the oar.
"You are a fine brave girl," I said sincerely, unable to restrain my admiration.
She dropped her head, and began to sob.
"Oh, no, no! I am not," she replied, tremblingly.

"I am such a coward.

You cannot know the terror I have felt." "That is the test of courage; you faced peril realizing all you risked.
Not one in a thousand would have done as well." "You--you really think so ?" and she glanced toward me, "or are you merely seeking to encourage me?
But you are soaking wet, and must be cold." "A little damp--yes," and I laughed, stretching my limbs, "but there is plenty to do now to keep me warm.

Where is the _Sea Gull_?
I hardly know in which direction to look." She pointed over the port bow, and, with an effort, I managed to make out, through the misty gloom, a faint shadow against the sky.