"I hear singing," said Harold, smiling, "but I think the rock is bare."
"I hear the music too," remarked Herbert, "but I suppose Cousin Ronald makes it. A mermaid's only a fabled creature."
"Fabled? what's that?"
"Only pretend."
"Ah now, what a pity!"
At that instant a piercing scream seemed to come from the sea out beyond the surf, some yards higher up the coast. "Help! help! I'll drown, I'll drown!"
Instantly Harold was off like a shot, in the direction of the sound, tearing off his coat as he went, while Herbert screaming "somebody's drowning! The life boat! the life boat!" rushed away toward the hotel.
"Lads! lads!" cried Mr. Lilburn, putting himself to his utmost speed to overtake Harold in time to prevent him from plunging into the sea, "are ye mad? are ye daft? There's nobody there, lads; 'twas only Cousin Ronald at his old tricks again."
As he caught up to Harold, the boy's coat and vest lay on the ground, and he was down beside them, tugging at his boots and shouting "Hold on! I'm coming," while a great wave came rolling in and dashed over him, wetting him from head to foot.
"No, ye're not!" cried Mr. Lilburn, laying a tight grasp upon his arm; "there's nobody there; and if there was, what could a bit, frail laddie like you do to rescue him? You'd only be dragged under yourself."