"Don't be afraid, Sidney," Mart spoke calmly. "You sort o' belong to the Cape and we Cape folks don't think anything of drowning. We sort of expect to, sometime--" But here her voice broke with a tremble. "I--I was thinking of gran'ma. I wish I'd been better to her. I talk back to her lots of times when I shouldn't." "But you _are_ good to her, Mart. And--_I_ was thinking of Aunt Achsa. I shouldn't have deceived her--about coming out here. I fooled myself into thinking that even a lie didn't matter considering what we were trying to do. But the honor of Cape Cod isn't worth anything happening to Lav. And if anything does happen there won't be anyone to tell about Jed Starrow, anyway! Oh, Mart, I can't bear to _think_ about Lav. Why did we let him do it? Dear old Lav. I've been mean to him, too. He adores poetry and I--I never even told him that my father was a poet and that I know lots and lots of poems and--and--that I've written most a book myself." "Honest, Sid, was your father a poet? And you can write it yourself? Gee," softly. "I wish I could do something like that. I'd rather be like that than anything else. I just pretend that I hate school and books and such things--it's because I had to stop going to school to stay with gran'ma that I've put on that I didn't have any use for it. Even when I was sort of laughing at you, Sid, down in my heart I was feeling aw'fly proud that you'd want to fool 'round with anyone like me--I'll _always_ be proud." "Oh, Mart--" Sidney faltered. "I wish I could put into words what Mr. Dugald taught me when I first came here. That it's the big inside things that really count. He told me so's I'd see Aunt Achsa and Lav as they really are. And, Mart, your giving up school to take care of your grandmother is a big thing, a real thing! You don't want to forget it." "Oh, I'm--I'm--sick!" broke in Pola. "Sit up straight and talk and you won't think about it," commanded Mart, so sternly that Pola straightened, her white face wan in the darkness. "I don't see how you _can_ talk when you're--may be--going--to die!" "Well, talking helps you more than crying." "But I--I don't _want_ to--die." "Who does?" retorted Mart roughly. Nevertheless, touched by Pola's helplessness, she found Pola's hand and held it close in hers. "But let's face whatever happens with our heads up!" "To the wind," breathed Sidney, shivering. "I--I just can't be brave like you two. I--I'm an awful coward. I can't help it. I've always been afraid to even try to swim. I'm afraid of lots of things. Oh, I'm afraid to--to--" Sidney caught Pola's other hand. "Don't say it, Pola. Maybe someone will find us. And probably you can't help feeling afraid." Mart suddenly remembered the cookies she had brought. She found them where she had hidden them at the back of one of the bunks. "Here, eat a cookie and you'll forget things. I'm hungry, aren't you, too?"