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.