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The girls aided all they could, pointing out and receiving in the tins a many-rayed creature, which closed up till it resembled a gout of blood; now, still adhering to the rock which Harry chipped off, a beautiful Actinia of olive-green with gem-like spots around the mouth and amid its fringe of turquoise blue.
Duncan Leslie eagerly lent his help; and, not to be behindhand, Pradelle took up the boat-hook and held on, but with the smoothness and care of a sleek tom-cat, he carefully avoided wetting his hands.
“Nothing very new here,” said Harry at last, as the waves that kept coming in made the boat rise and fall gently; “there’s another better cave than this close by. Let’s go there; or what do you say to stopping here and having a smoke till the tide has risen and shut us in?”
“Is there any risk of that?” said Pradelle anxiously.
“Oh, yes, plenty.”
Leslie glanced at Louise and thought that it would be very pleasant to play protector all through the darkness till the way was open and daylight shone again. He caught her eyes more than once and tried to read them as he wondered whether there was hope for him; but so surely as she found him gazing rather wistfully at her, she hurriedly continued the collecting, pointing out one of the beautiful objects they sought beneath the surface, and asking Pradelle to shift the boat a little farther along.
“All my vanity and conceit,” said Leslie to himself with a sigh; “and why should I worry myself about a woman? I have plenty to do without thinking of love and marriage. If I did, why not begin to dream about pleasant, straightforward Madelaine Van Heldre? There can be nothing more than a friendly feeling towards Master Harry here.”
“Now then, sit fast,” cried the latter object of his thoughts; “and if we are capsized, girls, I’ll look after you, Maddy. Pradelle here will swim out with Louie, and I shall leave you to bring out the boat, Leslie. You can swim, can’t you?”
“A little,” said the young man drily.
Pradelle looked rather more green, for the light within the cave was of a peculiar hue, and he began to think uneasily of bathing out of a machine at Margate, holding on to a rope, and also of the effort he once made to swim across a tepid bath in town. But he laughed heartily directly after as he realised that it was all banter on his friend’s part, while, in spite of himself, he gave a sigh of relief as, riding out on the crest of a broken wave, they once more floated in the sunshine.
Ten minutes’ careful rowing among the rocks, which were now four or five feet beneath the water, now showing their weedy crests above, brought them to the mouth of another cave, only approachable from the sea, and sending the boat in here, the collection went on till it was deemed useless to take more specimens, when they passed out again, greatly to Pradelle’s satisfaction.
“How’s time?” said Harry. “Half-past four? Plenty of time. High tea at six. What shall we do – sail right out and tack, or row along here in the smooth water among the rocks?”
“Row slowly back,” said Louise: and Pradelle took an oar.
At the end of half a mile he ceased rowing.
“Tired?” said Harry.
“No; I have a blister on my hand; that’s all.”
“Come and pull, Leslie,” said Harry. “You’d better steer, Louie, and don’t send us on to a rock.”
The exchange of places was made, and once more they began to progress with the boat, travelling far more swiftly as they glided on close in to the mighty cliff which rose up overhead, dappled with mossy grey and patches of verdure, dotted with yellow and purple blooms.
“To go on like this for ever!” thought Leslie as he swung to and fro, his strong muscles making the water foam as he dipped his oar, watching Louise as she steered, and seemed troubled and ready to converse with Pradelle whenever she caught his eye.
“Starn all!” shouted Harry suddenly, as about three miles from home they came abreast of a narrow opening close to the surface of the water.
The way of the boat was checked, and Harry looked at the hole into which the tide ran and ebbed as the swell rose and fell, now nearly covering the opening, now leaving it three or four feet wide.
“Bound to say there are plenty of good specimens in there,” he said. “What do you say, Vic, shall we go in?”
“Impossible.”
“Not it. Bound to say that’s the opening to quite a large zorn. I’ve seen the seals go in there often.”
“Has it ever been explored?” said Leslie, who felt interested in the place.
“No; it’s nearly always covered. It’s only at low tides like this that the opening is bared. If the girls were not here I’d go in.”
“How?” said Pradelle.
“How? – why swim in.”
“And be shut up by the tide and drowned,” said Louise.
“Good thing too,” said Harry, with the same look of a spoiled boy at Madelaine. “I don’t find life go very jolly. Boat wouldn’t pass in there.”
He had risen from his seat and was standing with one foot on the gunwale, the other on the thwart, gazing curiously at the dark orifice some forty yards away, the boat rising and falling as it swayed here and there on the waves, which ran up to the face of the cliff and back, when just as the attention of all was fixed upon the little opening, from which came curious hissing and rushing noises, the boat rose on a good-sized swell, and as it sank was left upon the top of a weedy rock which seemed to rise like the shaggy head of a huge sea-monster beneath the keel.
There was a bump, a grinding, grating noise, a shout and a heavy splash, and the boat, after narrowly escaping being capsized, floated once more in deep water; but Harry had lost his balance, gone overboard, and disappeared.
Madelaine uttered a cry of horror, and then for a few moments there was a dead silence, during which Louise sat with blanched face, parted lips, and dilated eyes, gazing at the spot where her brother had disappeared. Pradelle held on by the side of the boat, and Leslie sprang up, rapidly stripped off coat and vest, and stood ready to plunge in.
Those moments seemed indefinitely prolonged, and a terrible feeling of despair began to attack the occupants of the boat as thought after thought, each of the blackest type, flashed through their brains. He had been sucked down by the undertow, and was being carried out to sea – he was entangled in the slimy sea-wrack, and could not rise again – he had struck his head against the rocks, stunned himself, and gone down like a stone, and so on.
Duncan Leslie darted one glance at the pale and suffering face of the sister, placed a foot on the gunwale, and was in the act of gathering himself up to spring from the boat, when Harry’s head rose thirty yards away.
“Ahoy!” he shouted, as he began to paddle and tread water. “Hallo, Leslie, ready for a bathe? Come out! Water’s beautiful. Swim you back to the harbour.”
There was a long-drawn breath in the boat which sounded like a groan, as the terrible mental pressure was removed, and the young man began to swim easily and slowly towards his friends.
“Mind she doesn’t get on another rock, Leslie,” he cried.
“Here, catch hold of this,” cried Pradelle, whose face was ashy, and he held out the boat-hook as far as he could reach.
“Thank ye,” said Harry mockingly, and twenty yards away. “Little farther, please. What a lovely day for a swim!”
“Harry, pray come into the boat,” cried Louise excitedly.
“What for? Mind the porpoise.”
He gave a few sharp blows on the water with his hands, raising himself up and turning right over, dived, his legs just appearing above the surface, and then there was an eddy where he had gone down.
“Don’t be frightened,” whispered Madelaine, whose voice sounded a little husky.
“Here we are again!” cried Harry, reappearing close to the boat and spluttering the water from his lips, as with all the gaiety of a boy he looked mirthfully at the occupants of the boat. “Any orders for pearls, ladies?”
“Don’t be foolish, Harry,” said Louise, as he swam close to them.
“Not going to be. I say, Leslie, take the boat-hook away from that fellow, or he’ll be making a hole in the bottom of the boat.”
As he spoke, he laid a hand upon the gunwale and looked merrily from one to the other.
“Don’t touch me, girls. I’m rather damp,” he said. “I say, what a capital bathing dress flannels make!”
“Shall I help you in?” said Leslie.
“No, thank ye, I’m all right. As I am in, I may as well have a swim.”
“No, no, Harry, don’t be foolish,” cried Louise.
“There, you’d better hitch a rope round me, and tow me behind, or I shall swamp the boat.”
“Harry! what are you going to do?” cried Madelaine, as he loosened his hold of the gunwale, and began to swim away.
“Wait a bit and you’ll see,” he cried. “Leslie, you take care of the boat. I shan’t be long.”
“But Harry – ”
“All right, I tell you.”
“Where are you going?”
“In here,” he shouted back, and he swam straight to the low opening at the foot of the massive granite cliff, paddled a little at the mouth till the efflux of water was over, and then as the fresh wave came, he took a few strokes, gave a shout, and to the horror of the two girls seemed to be sucked right into the opening.
As he disappeared, he gave another shout, a hollow strange echoing “Good-bye,” and a few moments after there was a run back of the water and a hollow roar, and it needed very little exercise of the imagination to picture the rugged opening as the mouth of some marine monster into which the young man had passed.
Chapter Three
Discords
“Don’t be alarmed,” said Leslie quietly, “I daresay it is like one of the zorns yonder, only the mouth is too narrow for a boat.”
“But it is so foolish,” said Louise, giving him a grateful look.
“Yes, but he swims so easily and well, there is nothing to mind. What are you going to do, Mr Pradelle?”
“Work the boat close up so as to help him,” said Pradelle shortly.
“No, don’t do that. We have had one escape from a capsize. We must keep out here in deep water.”
Pradelle frowned.
“I think I know what I’m about, sir,” he said sharply; “do you suppose I am going to sit here when my friend may be in danger?”
“I have no doubt you know what you are about in London, sir,” said Leslie quietly, “but this is not a pavement in the Strand, and it is not safe to take the boat closer in.”
Pradelle was about to make some retort, but Louise interposed.
“Try if you can get nearer the mouth of that dreadful place, Mr Leslie,” she said, “I am getting terribly alarmed.”
Leslie seated himself, took the oars, turned the boat, and backed slowly and cautiously in, holding himself ready to pull 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 mind the tiller, Vic,” said Harry; “let it swing. We can manage without that. All right, girls?”
There was no reply.
“Sulky, eh? Well, I’d a good mind to stop in. Sorry you got so wet, Leslie.”
Still no reply.
“Cheerful party, ’pon my word!” said Harry, with a contemptuous laugh. “Hope no one objects to my smoking.”
He looked hard at Madelaine, but she avoided his gaze, and he uttered a short laugh.
“Got a cigar to spare, Vic?”
“Yes, dear boy, certainly.”
“Pass it along then and the lights. Hold hard a minute, Leslie.”
The latter ceased rowing as Pradelle handed a cigar and the matches to his friend.
“Will you take one, Mr Leslie?” said Pradelle.
“Thanks, no,” said Leslie quietly, and to the would-be donor’s great relief, for he had only two left. Then once more the rowing was resumed, Pradelle striking a match to light a cigar for himself, and then recollecting himself and throwing the match away.
“Well, we’re enjoying ourselves!” cried Harry after they had proceeded some distance in silence. “I say, Vic, say something!”
Pradelle had been cudgelling his brains for the past ten minutes, but the more he tried to find something à propos the more every pleasant subject seemed to recede.
In fact it would have been difficult just then for the most accomplished talker to have set all present at their ease, for Harry’s folly had moved his sister so that she feared to speak lest she should burst into a hysterical fit of weeping, and Madelaine, as she sat there with her lips compressed, felt imbued with but one desire, which took the form of the following words:
“Oh, how I should like to box his ears!”
“Getting dry, Leslie?” said Harry after a long silence.
“Not very,” was the reply.
“Ah well, there’s no fear of our catching cold pulling like this.”
“Not the slightest,” said Leslie coldly; then there was another period of silence, during which the water seemed to patter and slap the bows of the boat, while the panorama of rock and foam and glittering cascade, as the crags were bathed by the Atlantic swell, and it fell back broken, seemed perfectly fresh and new as seen from another point of view.
At last Harry, after trying two or three times more to start a conversation, said shortly —
“Well, this is my last day at home, and I think I ought to say, ‘Thank goodness!’ This is coming out for a pleasant sail, and having to row back like a galley-slave! Oh, I beg your pardon, ladies! All my mistake. I am highly complimented. All this glumminess is because I am going away.”
He received such a look of reproach that he uttered an angry ejaculation and began to pull so hard that Leslie had to second his movement to keep the boat’s head straight for the harbour, whose farther point soon after came in sight, with two figures on the rocks at the end.
“Papa along with Uncle Luke,” said Louise softly.
“Eh?” said Harry sharply; “the old man still fishing?”
“Yes,” said Louise rather coldly; “and, Maddy, dear, is not that Mr Van Heldre?”
Madelaine shaded her eyes from the western sun, where it was sinking fast, and nodded.
“Where shall we land you?” said Harry sulkily now, “at the point, or will you go up the harbour?”
“If there is not too much sea on, at the point,” said Louise gravely.
“Oh, I dare say we can manage that without wetting your plumes,” said the young man contemptuously; and after another ten minutes’ pulling they reached the harbour mouth and made for the point, where Uncle Luke stood leaning on his rod watching the coming boat, in company with a tall grey man with refined features, who had taken off the straw hat he wore to let the breeze play through his closely-cut hair, while from time to time he turned to speak either to Uncle Luke or to the short thick set man who, with his pointed white moustache and closely clipped peaked beard, looked in his loose holland blouse like a French officer taking his vacation at the seaside.
“Mind how you come,” said the latter in a sharp, decided way. “Watch your time, Leslie. Back in, my lad. Can you manage it, girls?”
“Oh, yes,” they cried confidently. “Sit still then till the boat’s close in, then one at a time. You first, my dear.”
This to Louise, as he stepped actively down the granite rocks to a narrow natural shelf, which was now bare, now several inches deep in water.
“If we manage it cleverly we can get you ashore without a wetting.”
The warnings were necessary, for the tide ran fast, and the Atlantic swell made the boat rise and fall, smooth as the surface was.
“Now then,” cried the French-looking gentleman, giving his orders as if he were an officer in command, “easy, Harry Vine; back a little, Mr Leslie. Be ready, Louie, my dear. That’s it: a little more. I have you. Bravo!”
The words came slowly, and with the latter there was a little action; as he took the hands outstretched to him, when the boat nearly grazed the rock, there was a light spring, the girl was on the narrow shelf, and the boat, in answer to a touch of the oars, was half-a-dozen yards away rising and falling on the swell.
“Give me your hand, my dear,” said the tall grey gentleman, leaning down.
“Oh, I can manage, papa,” she cried, and the next moment she was by his side. Looking back, “Thank you, Mr Van Heldre,” she said.
“Eh? All right, my child. Now, Maddy. Steady, my lads. Mind that ledge; don’t get her under there. Bravo! that’s right. Now, my girl. Well done.”
Madelaine leaped to his side, and was in turn assisted to the top, she accepting the tall gentleman’s help, while Uncle Luke, with his hands resting on his rod, which he held with the butt on the rock, stood grimly looking down at the boat.
“I think I’ll land here,” said Leslie. “You don’t want my help with the boat.”
“Oh, no; we can manage,” said Harry sourly; and Leslie gave up his oar and leaped on to the rock as the boat was again backed in.
“That chap looks quite green,” said Uncle Luke with a sneering laugh. “Our London friend been poorly, Louie?”
Before she could answer the tall gentleman cried to those in the boat —
“Don’t be long, my boy. Tea will be waiting.”
“All right, dad. Lay hold of this oar, Vic, and let’s get her moored.”
“Why, you’re wet, Mr Leslie,” said the tall gentleman, shaking hands.
“Only sea-water, sir. It’s nothing.”
“But,” said the former speaker, looking quickly from one to the other, and his handsome thoughtful face seemed troubled, “has there been anything wrong?”
“Harry fell in,” said Louise, speaking rather quickly and excitedly; “and, Mr Leslie – ”
“Ah!” ejaculated the tall gentleman excitedly.
“It was nothing, sir,” said Leslie hastily. “He swam in among the rocks – into a cave, and he was a long time gone, and I went after him; that’s all.”
“But, my dear boy, you must make haste and change your things.”
“I shall not be hurt, Mr Vine.”
“And – and – look here. Make haste and come on then to us. There will be a meal ready. It’s Harry’s last day at home.”
“Oh, thank you, Mr Vine; I don’t think I’ll come to-night.”
“But you have been one of the party so far, and I should – Louie, my dear – ”
“We shall be very glad if you will come, Mr Leslie,” said Louise, in response to her father’s hesitating words and look, and there was a calm, ingenious invitation in her words that made the young man’s heart throb.
“I, too, shall be very glad,” he said quietly.
“That’s right, that’s right,” said Mr Vine, laying one of his long thin white hands on the young man’s arm: and then changing its position, so that he could take hold of one of the buttons on his breast. Then turning quickly: “Madelaine’s coming, of course.”
“Louie says so,” said the girl quietly.
“To be sure; that’s right, my dear; that’s right,” said the old man, beaming upon her as he took one of her hands to hold and pat it in his. “You’ll come too, Van?”
“I? No, no. I’ve some bills of lading to look over.”
“Yah!” ejaculated Uncle Luke with a snarl.
“Yes; bills of lading, you idle old cynic. I can’t spend my time fishing.”
“Pity you can’t,” said Uncle Luke. “Money, money, always money.”
“Hear him, Mr Leslie?” said Van Heldre smiling. “Are you disposed to follow his teachings?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Leslie.
“Not he,” snarled Uncle Luke.
“But you will come, Van?” said Mr Vine.
“My dear fellow, I wish you would not tempt me. There’s work to do. Then there’s my wife.”
“Bring Mrs Van Heldre too,” said Louise, laying her hand on his.
“Ah, you temptress,” he cried merrily.
“It’s Harry’s last evening,” said Mr Vine.
“Look here,” said Van Heldre, “will you sing me my old favourite if I come, Louie?”
“Yes; and you shall have a duet too.”
“Ah, never mind the duet,” said Van Heldre laughingly; “I can always hear Maddy at home. There, out of pocket again by listening to temptation. I’ll come.”
“Come and join us too, Luke,” said Mr Vine.
“No!” snapped the old fisher.
“Do, uncle,” said Louise.
“Shan’t,” he snarled, stooping to pick up his heavy basket.
“But it’s Harry’s last – ”
“Good job too,” snarled the old man.
“I’m going your way, Mr Luke Vine,” said Leslie. “Let me carry the basket?”
“Thank ye; I’m not above carrying my own fish,” said the old man sharply; and he raised and gave the basket a swing to get it upon his back, but tottered with the weight, and nearly fell on the uneven rocks.
“There, it is too heavy for you,” said Leslie, taking possession of the basket firmly; and Louise Vine’s eyes brightened.
“Be too heavy for you when you get as old as I am,” snarled the old man.
“I daresay,” said Leslie quietly; and they went off together.
“Luke’s in fine form this afternoon,” said Van Heldre, nodding and smiling.
“Yes,” said the brother, looking after him wistfully. “We shall wait till you come, Mr Leslie,” he shouted, giving vent to an afterthought.
The young man turned and waved his hand.
“Rather like Leslie,” said Van Heldre. “Maddy, you’ll have to set your cap at him.”
Madelaine looked up at him and laughed.
“Yes, poor Luke!” said Mr Vine thoughtfully, as he stooped and picked up a small net and a tin can, containing the treasures he had found in sundry rock pools. “I’m afraid we are a very strange family, Van,” he added, as they walked back towards the little town.
“Very, old fellow,” said his friend smiling. “I’ll be with you before Leslie gets back, wife and the necessary change of dress permitting.”
