out again at the slightest appearance of danger. For the sea rushed against the rocky barrier with tremendous force, while even on this calm day, the swing and wash and eddy amongst the loose rocks was formidable.
By skilful management Leslie backed the boat to within some thirty feet of the opening; but the position was so perilous that he had to pull out for a few yards to avoid a couple of rocks, which in the movement of the clear water seemed to be rising toward them from time to time, and coming perilously near.
Then he shouted, but there was no answer. He shouted again and again, but there was no reply, and a chill of horror, intensifying from moment to moment, came upon all.
“Harry! Harry!” cried Louise, now raising her voice, as Madelaine crept closer to her and clutched her hand.
But there was no reply. No sound but the rush and splash and hiss of the waters as they struck the rocks, and came back broken from the attack.
“What folly!” muttered Leslie, with his face growing rugged. Then quickly, “I don’t think you need feel alarmed; I dare say he has swum in for some distance, and our voices do not reach him. Stop a moment.”
He suddenly remembered a little gold dog-whistle at his watch-chain, and raising it to his lips he blew long and shrilly, till the ear piercing note echoed along the cliff, and the gulls came floating lazily overhead and peering wonderingly down.
“I say, Harry, old man, come out now,” cried Pradelle, and then rising from his seat, he placed his hands on either side of his lips, and uttered the best imitation he could manage of the Australian call, “Coo-ey! Coo-ey!”
There were echoes and whispers, and the rush and hiss of the water. Then two or three times over there came from out of the opening a peculiar dull hollow sound, such as might be made by some great animal wallowing far within.
“Mr. Leslie,” said Louise in a low appealing voice, “what shall we do?”
“Oh, wait a few minutes, my dear Miss Vine,” interposed Pradelle, hastily. “He’ll be out directly. I assure you there is no cause for alarm.”
Leslie frowned, but his face coloured directly, for his heart gave a great throb.
Louise paid not the slightest heed to Pradelle’s words, but kept her limpid eyes fixed appealingly upon Leslie’s, as if she looked to him for help.
“I hardly know what to do,” he said in a low business-like tone. “I dare not leave you without some one to manage the boat, or I would go in.”
“Yes, yes, pray go!” she said excitedly, “Never mind us.”
“We could each take an oar and keep the boat here,” said Madelaine quickly, “we can both row.”
“No, really; I’ll manage the boat,” said Pradelle.
“I think you had better leave it to the ladies, Mr. Pradelle,” said Leslie coldly. “They know the coast.”
“Well really, sir, I—”
“This is no time for interference,” cried Madelaine with a flush of excitement, and she caught hold of an oar. “Louie dear, quick!”
The other oar was resigned, and as Leslie passed aft, he gave Louise one quick look, reading in her face, as he believed, trust and thankfulness and then dread.
“No, no, Mr. Leslie, I hardly dare let you go,” she faltered.
Plash!
The boat was rolling and dancing on the surface, relieved of another burden, and Duncan Leslie was swimming toward the opening.
The two girls dipped their oars from time to time, for their seaside life had given them plenty of experience of the management of a boat; and as Pradelle sat looking sulky and ill-used, they watched the swimmer as he too timed his movements, so that he gradually approached, and then in turn was sucked right into the weird water-way, which might lead another into some terrible chasm from which there was no return.
A low hoarse sigh, as if one had whispered while suffering pain the word “Hah!” And then with dilated eyes the two girls sat watching the black opening for what seemed a terrible interval of time, before, to their intense relief, there came a shout of laughter, followed by the appearance of Leslie, who swam out looking stern, and closely followed by Harry.
“It is not the sort of fun I can appreciate, Mr. Vine,” said Leslie, turning as he reached the stern of the boat.
“Well, I know that,” cried Harry mockingly. “Scotchmen never can appreciate a joke.”
“There, ladies, what did I tell you?” cried Pradelle triumphantly.
There was no reply, and the visitor from London winced, for his presence in the boat seemed to be thoroughly de trop.
“Miss Vine—Miss Van Heldre,” said Leslie quietly, “will you change places now? Get right aft and we will climb in over the bows.”
“But the boat?” faltered Louise, whose emotion was so great that she could hardly trust herself to speak.
“We’ll see to that,” said Leslie. “Your brother and I will row back.”
It did not seem to trouble him now that the two girls took their places, one on either side of Pradelle, while as soon as they were seated he climbed in streaming with water, seating himself on the gunwale, Harry climbing in on the other side.
“Harry, how could you?” cried Louise, now, with an indignant look.
“Easily enough,” he said, seating himself calmly. “Thought you’d lost me?”
He looked at Madelaine as he spoke, but she turned her face away biting her lips, and it was Louise who replied:
“I did not think you could have been so cruel.”
“Cruel be hanged!” he retorted. “Thought I’d find out whether I was of any consequence after all. You people seem to say I’m of none. Did they begin to cry, Vic?”
“Oh, I’m not going to tell tales,” said Pradelle with a smile.
“I should have had a pipe in there, only my matches had got wet.”
“Ha-ha-ha!” laughed Pradelle, and the mirth sounded strange there beneath the rocks, and a very decided hiss seemed to come from out of the low rugged opening.
“Try again, Vic,” said Harry mockingly, but his friend made no reply, for he was staring hard and defiantly at Leslie, who, as he handled his oar, gave him a calmly contemptuous look that galled him to the quick.
“Ready, Leslie?” said Harry.
“Yes.”
The oars dipped, Leslie pulling stroke, and the boat shot out from its dangerous position among the rocks, rose at a good-sized swelling wave, topped it, seemed to hang as in a balance for a moment, and then glided down and went forward in response to a few vigorous strokes.
“Never
