Every one leant forward eagerly. It was the first time Peter had shown any inclination to talk, and no one had guessed he could possibly know anything of Miss Chase.
"She said," was his clear reply, "'That's right, Peter Perky. Now mind you float; don't struggle, but lie on your back.'—Bob," he broke off, "lucky you taught me to float, wasn't it?"
"Yes, yes," said Bob; "never mind about that. Go on about Dorothy."
Eustace stared at his back in wonder. For the first time in his life he heard Bob irritable.
"She said," Peter went on obediently, "'Don't be frightened; I am coming too.'"
"Then she took me up, and we jumped overboard. I don't know what happened next."
"Try to think," said Bob in a hard voice.
"I can't," said Peter; "everything was noise and blackness. Ask Aunt Dorothy; she'll tell you."
There was a solemn hush—so solemn that Peter stared round in amazement at the grave faces. Bob turned and walked heavily out of the room. Nesta buried her head in her hands.