The hurricane, as if sullen at being foiled in its attempt to destroy the little party now safe at Camp Cleverdale, began to halt in its mad career, the waves that had been roaring and dancing upon the shore showing signs of exhaustion. Although the winds blew, it was evident their force was nearly spent. Later in the afternoon, while George Alden was seated upon a rock amusing Geordie and Willie, the boys much interested in the stories he was relating, Jane approached the trio and informed him that Belle, awakening from her sleep, wished to see him in the tent. Leaving the boys with Jane he walked toward the Camp, and on entering the enclosure was gratified at finding Belle sitting up. "How are you feeling now?" he asked. "You look rested, and I hope are much refreshed." "Yes, thanks to your kindness, I am feeling like myself again. Is the storm over? What a narrow escape for us all! But, how came you here?" she asked, anxiously. George then told his own adventures, relating all the circumstances of his trip, and then said: "Ah, Belle, how happy I am that you are safe! I earnestly hope that you may experience no ill effects from your adventure." "No, I am feeling quite well excepting a little lameness in my arms. It was a long, hard pull for my weak hands, but had I not undertaken it our poor little boys would have been drowned. It was a terrible ordeal, and when the cruel waves capsized their boat my senses nearly left me. When I saw my loved ones on the rock clasped in Jane's arms, my heart sent forth such a prayer of thanks! Are the boys injured?" "Not in the least, the little fellows are perfectly safe. I trembled for you, though, when I saw your white face, your eyes closed, and your lips speechless." He spoke feelingly, and as he did so gently took her hand, which she allowed him to hold with the confidence one feels when beside a trusted friend. "And yourself, George," she said, "you look pale, as if the excitement had been too much for you, but I hope it is only your anxiety for us." "It has been an anxious day for me. Had you been drowned, my heart would have been sorely stricken. Belle, I must speak--do forgive me--but you are dearer to me than all the world. I see you are offended, but when all I care for, all that I love, is before me I cannot help speaking from my heart." Belle arose from her seat and said: "Oh, think of what you are saying. I am not my own mistress. You are noble and brave, and having been the means of saving us from sorrow, I cannot be too grateful to you. You are more to me than--than I wish; but do not talk of this to-day. The scenes of the morning--the awful waves, that seem even now to laugh me to scorn--make this moment too much like the bright day following the darkness of night--too much like the sunshine after a storm. Please, George, no more of this--at least not now."