Edgar Rice Burroughs

The Land That Time Forgot Edgar Rice Burroughs

Toward morning, I must have dozed, though it seemed to me at the time that I had lain awakefor days, instead of hours. When I finally opened my eyes, it was daylight, and the girl's hair was inmy face, and she was breathing normally. I thanked God for that. She had turned her head duringthe night so that as I opened my eyes I saw her face not an inch from mine, my lips almost touchinghers. It was Nobs who finally awoke her. He got up, stretched, turned around a few times and laydown again, and the girl opened her eyes and looked into mine. Hers went very wide at first, andthen slowly comprehension came to her, and she smiled."You have been very good to me," she said, as I helped her to rise, though if the truth wereknown I was more in need of assistance than she; the circulation all along my left side seeming to beparalyzed entirely. "You have been very good to me." And that was the only mention she ever madeof it; yet I know that she was thankful and that only reserve prevented her from referring to what, tosay the least, was an embarrassing situation, however unavoidable. Shortly after daylight we saw smoke apparently coming straight toward us, and after a time wemade out the squat lines of a tug-one of those fearless exponents of England's supremacy of thesea that tows sailing ships into French and English ports. I stood up on a thwart and waved mysoggy coat above my head. Nobs stood upon another and barked. The girl sat at my feet strainingher eyes toward the deck of the oncoming boat. "They see us," she said at last. "There is a mananswering your signal." She was right. A lump came into my throat-for her sake rather than formine. She was saved, and none too soon. She could not have lived through another night upon theChannel; she might not have lived through the coming day.