"Oh!" I cried, "isn't it _beautiful_! oh, it is grand!
fascinating!--I could watch those waves all day!"
Hilliard's face lighted up. "I thought you would like it," he said. "You
should see it in a storm,--it is magnificent! but it is terrible,
too,"--he gave a little shudder. "I love the ocean, but I am afraid of
it; it is treacherous."
"Afraid!" I looked at him in surprise,--the idea of a big strong boy as
he is being _afraid_ of the water! I opened my mouth to exclaim, "Well,
_I'm_ not afraid!" then remembered my unlucky remark of a few minutes
before and said instead, and in a much milder tone, "After breakfast I'm
going to explore those rocks, and get as near to the ocean as I can--"
"Don't attempt to do any climbing alone," broke in Hilliard, more
positively than he usually speaks; "the rocks are very slippery, and you
know nothing about the tides. People have been caught on those rocks and
cut off--drowned--by the incoming tide, before they could reach the
shore, or be rescued. I shall be very glad to go with you whenever--"
"Good-morning!" Mr. Erveng said, appearing in the doorway behind us;
"will you young people come in and have some breakfast?"
Breakfast was served in a room that looked out on the garden; and
everything was very nice, though quite different from our breakfasts at
home.
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