“Well, look sharp. Scood’s waiting. He called me an hour ago, and I dropped asleep again.”
“Scood—waiting?”
“Yes; he’s a splendid swimmer. We’ll soon teach you.”
“But—”
“You’re not afraid, are you?”
“Oh no—not at all. But I—”
“Here, jump into your togs, old man, and haul your shrouds taut. It’s glorious! You’re sure to like it after the first jump in. It’s just what you want.”
Max felt as if it was just what he did not want; but strong wills rule weak, and he had a horror of being thought afraid, so that the result was, he slipped on his clothes hastily, and followed his companion down-stairs, and out on to the rock terrace, where a soft western breeze came off the sea, which glittered in the morning sunshine.
He looked round for the threatening-looking black rocks which had seemed so weird and strange the night before, and his eyes sought the uncouth monsters with the tangled hair which seemed to rise out of the foaming waters. But, in place of these, there was the glorious sunshine, brightening the grey granite, and making the yellowish-brown seaweed shine like gold as it swayed here and there in the crystal-pure water.
“Why, you look ten pounds better than you did yesterday!” cried Kenneth; and then, raising his voice, “Scood, ho! Scood, hoy!” he shouted.