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?"