“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?”