sir!” cried the eldest of the young ladies, “you see how we are situated: can you assist us?”
The swimmer had risen erect. He looked right and left, before making rejoinder.
“Can you swim?” he asked.
“Not one of us.”
“It is bad,” he muttered to himself. “Either way, it is doubtful whether I could carry them through it. It’s been as much as I could do for myself. We’d be almost certain of being crushed. What, in heaven’s name, can be done for them?”
They were thoughts rather than words, and the girls could not know them. But they saw the stranger’s brow clouded with apprehension; and with eyes straining into his, they stood trembling.
He turned suddenly, and glanced up the cliff. He remembered the seam he had observed from above. He could now survey it from base to summit.
A gleam of hope flashed over his face. It could be scaled!
“Surely you can climb up there?” he asked, encouragingly.
“No, no! I’m sure we could never go up that way. I could not.”
“Nor I.”
“You might sustain yourselves by taking hold of the bushes. It is not so difficult as it appears. Those tufts of grass would help you; and there are points where you might place your feet. I could climb it easily myself; but, unfortunately, it would be impossible for me to assist you. There is not room for two to go up together.”
“I am sure I should fall before I was halfway to the top!”
This was said by Cornelia. Julia signified the same. The negress had no voice. With lips ashy pale, she seemed too much terrified to speak.
“Then there is no alternative but to try swimming,” said the stranger, once more facing seaward, and again scrutinising the surf. “No!” he added, apparently recoiling from the design, “by swimming I might save myself, though it is no longer certain. The swell has increased since I came in here. There’s been wind on the sea outside. I’m a fair swimmer; but to take one of you with me is, I fear, beyond my strength.”
“But, sir!” appealed she of the dark eyes, “is it certain we could not stay here till the tide falls again?”
“Impossible! Look there!” answered he, pointing to the cliff.
There could be no mistaking what he meant. That line trending horizontally along the façade of the precipice, here and there ragged with sea-wrack, was the high-water mark of the tide. It was far overhead!
The girls uttered a simultaneous scream as they stood regarding it. It was, in truth, the first time they had felt a full sense of their danger. Hitherto they had been sustained by a hope that the tide would not mount so high as to submerge them. But there was the tell-tale track, beyond reach even of their hands!
“Courage!” cried the stranger, his voice all at once assuming a cheerful tone, as if some bright thought had occurred to him. “You have shawls, both of you. Let me have them.”
Without questioning his purpose, both raised the cashmeres from their shoulders, and held them out to him.
“A plan has occurred to me,” said he, taking out his knife, and cutting the costly fabric into strips. “I did not think of it before. By the help of these I may get you up the cliff.”
The shawls were soon separated into several bands. These he knotted together so as to form a long, narrow festoonery.
With eager hands the young ladies assisted him in the operation.
“Now?” he said, as soon as the junction was completed; “by this I can draw you up, one by one. Who first?”
“Go, cousin!” said she of the dark eyes; “you are lightest. It will be easier for him in the trial.”
As there was no time for either ceremony or dispute, Cornelia accepted the suggestion. The stranger could have no choice.
The shawl-rope was carefully adjusted around her waist, then with equal care fastened to his. Thus linked, they commenced climbing the cliff.
Though difficult for both, the scaling proved successful; and the young girl stood unharmed upon the summit.
She made no demonstration of joy. Her cousin was still below—still in danger!
Once again down the gorge by which he had before descended. Once more around the rock, battling with the breakers—and again safe in the shelter of the cove.
The shawl-rope flung down from above had been caught by those below; and was for the second time put into requisition.
In like manner was Julia rescued from the danger of drowning!
But the efforts of the rescuer did not end here. His was a gallantry that had nought to do with the colour of the skin.
For the third time his life was imperilled, and the negress stood safe upon the summit of the cliff—to unite with the young ladies in the expression of their gratitude.
“We can never sufficiently thank you,” said she of the bistre-coloured eyes.
“Oh, never!” exclaimed her companion with the irides of azure.
“Another favour, sir,” said the first speaker. “It seems quite a shame to ask it. But we shall be so laughed at if this become known. Would it be too much to request, that nothing be said of our very unpleasant adventure?”
“There shall be nothing said by me,” responded the rescuer. “Of that, ladies, you may rest assured.”
“Thanks!—a thousand thanks! Indeed, we are greatly indebted to you. Good-day, sir!”
With a bow, dark eyes turned away from the cliff along the path leading to the Ocean House. A somewhat deeper sentiment was observed in the orbs of blue; though their owner took leave without giving it expression.
The confusion arising from their late alarm might perhaps plead their excuse.
None was needed by the negress.
“God bress you, brave massa! God bress you!” were her parting words—the only ones that appeared to be spoken in true gratitude.
Chapter Five.
The Scathed Retriever.
Filled with astonishment, and not without a slight feeling of chagrin, the sportsman stood looking after the trio he had delivered from almost certain death.
“A thousand thanks! Indeed we are greatly indebted to you?”
He repeated these words, imitating
