his chin. His eyes were light blue and kind in expression. His nose was big and broad and his few teeth were not strong enough to crack nuts with.
Trot liked Cap'n Bill and had a great deal of confidence in his wisdom, and a great admiration for his ability to make tops and whistles and toys with that marvelous jackknife of his. In the village were many boys and girls of her own age, but she never had as much fun playing with them as she had wandering by the sea accompanied by the old sailor and listening to his fascinating stories.
She knew all about the Flying Dutchman, and Davy Jones' Locker, and Captain Kidd, and how to harpoon a whale or dodge an iceberg, or lasso a seal. Cap'n Bill had been everywhere in the world, almost, on his many voyages. He had been wrecked on desert islands like Robinson Crusoe and been attacked by cannibals, and had a host of other exciting adventures. So he was a delightful comrade for the little girl, and whatever Cap'n Bill knew Trot was sure to know in time.
"How do the mermaids live?" she asked. "Are they in caves, or just in the water like fishes, or how?"
"Can't say, Trot," he replied. "I've asked divers about that, but none of 'em ever run acrost a mermaid's nest yet, as I've heard of."
"If they're fairies," she said, "their homes must be very pretty."
"Mebbe so, Trot; but damp. They're sure to be damp, you know."
"I'd like to see a mermaid, Cap'n Bill," said the child, earnestly.
"What, an' git drownded?" he exclaimed.
"No; and live to tell the tale. If they're beautiful, and laughing, and sweet, there can't be much harm in them, I'm sure."
"Mermaids is mermaids," remarked Cap'n Bill, in his most solemn voice. "It wouldn't do us any good to mix up with 'em, Trot."
"May – re! May – re!" called a voice from the house.
"Yes, Mamma!"
"You an' Cap'n Bill come in to supper."
2
The Mermaids
The next morning, as soon as Trot had helped wipe the breakfast dishes and put them away in the cupboard, the little girl and Cap'n Bill started out toward the bluff.
The air was soft and warm, and the sun turned the edges of the waves into sparkling diamonds. Across the bay the last of the fisherboats was speeding away out to sea, for well the fishermen knew this was an ideal day to catch rockbass, barracuda and yellowtail.
The old man and the young girl stood on the bluff and watched all this with interest. Here was their world.
"It isn't a bit rough this morning. Let's have a boat ride, Cap'n Bill," said the child.
"Suits me to a T," declared the sailor.
So they found the winding path that led down the face of the cliff to the narrow beach below, and cautiously began the descent. Trot never minded the steep path or the loose rocks at all; but Cap'n Bill's wooden leg was not so useful on a down grade as on a level, and he had to be careful not to slip and take a tumble.
But by and by they reached the sands and walked to a spot just beneath the big acacia tree that grew on the bluff. Halfway to the top of the cliff hung suspended a little shed like structure that sheltered Trot's rowboat, for it was necessary to pull the boat out of reach of the waves which beat in fury against the rocks at high tide. About as high up as Cap'n Bill could reach was an iron ring, securely fastened to the cliff, and to this ring was tied a rope. The old sailor unfastened the knot and began paying out the rope, and the rowboat came out of its shed and glided slowly downward to the beach. It hung on a pair of davits, and was lowered just as a boat is lowered from a ship's side. When it reached the sands the sailor unhooked the ropes and pushed the boat to the water's edge. It was a pretty little craft, light and strong, and Cap'n Bill knew how to sail it or row it, as Trot might desire.
To-day they decided to row, so the girl climbed into the bow and her companion stuck his wooden leg into the water's edge, "so he wouldn't get his foot wet," and pushed off the little boat as he climbed aboard. Then he seized the oars and began gently paddling.
"Whither away, Commodore Trot?" he asked gaily.
"I don't care, Cap'n. It's just fun enough to be on the water," she answered, trailing one hand overboard.
So he rowed around by the North Promontory, where the great caves were, and much as they were enjoying the ride they soon began to feel the heat of the sun.
"That's Dead Man's Cave, 'cause a skellington was found there," observed the child, as they passed a dark yawning mouth in the cliff. "And that's Bumble Cave, 'cause the bumblebees make nests in the top of it. And here's Smuggler's Cave, 'cause the smugglers used to hide things in it."
She knew all the caves well, and so did Cap'n Bill. Many of them opened just at the water's edge and it was possible to row their boat far into their dusky depths.
"And here's Echo Cave," she continued, dreamily, as they slowly moved along the coast; "and Giant's Cave, and – oh, Cap'n Bill! do you s'pose there were ever any giants in that cave?"
"'Pears like there must 'a' been, Trot, or they wouldn't 'a' named it that name," he replied, pausing to wipe his bald head with the red handkerchief, while the oars dragged in the water.
"We've never been into that cave, Cap'n," she remarked, looking at the small hole in the cliff – an archway through which the water flowed. "Let's go in now."
"What for, Trot?"
"To see if there's a giant there."
"H-m. Aren't you 'fraid?"
"No; are you? I just don't b'lieve it's big enough for a giant to get into."
"Your father was in there once," remarked Cap'n Bill, "an' he says it's the biggest cave on the coast, but low down. It's full o' water, an' the water's deep down to the very bottom o' the ocean; but the rock roof's liable to bump your head at high tide."
"It's low tide now," returned Trot. "And how could any giant live in there if the roof is so low down?"
"Why, he couldn't, mate. I reckon they must have called it Giant's Cave 'cause it's so big, an' not 'cause any giant man lived there."
"Let's go in," said the girl, again; "I'd like to 'splore it."
"All right," replied the sailor. "It'll be cooler in there than out here in the sun. We won't go very far, for when the tide turns we mightn't get out again."
He picked up the oars and rowed slowly toward the cave. The black archway that marked its entrance seemed hardly big enough to admit the boat, at first; but as they drew nearer the opening became bigger. The sea was very calm here, for the headland shielded it from the breeze.
"Look out fer your head, Trot!" cautioned Cap'n Bill, as the boat glided slowly into the rocky arch.
But it was the sailor who had to duck, instead of the little girl. Only for a moment, though. Just beyond the opening the cave was higher, and as the boat floated into the dim interior they found themselves on quite an extensive branch of the sea.
For a time neither of them spoke and only the soft lapping of the water against the sides of the boat was heard. A beautiful sight met the eyes of the two adventurers and held them dumb with wonder
