For thine was the life of the solid land,
And I was a thing of the restless sea.”
As Arethusa finished her song, the merman came swimming wearily toward the three nymphs. If he had been a human being, he would not have seen them, but as it was they were revealed to his eyes. He knew what they were in a moment. They were dressed like his wooden nymph, and Arethusa carried a little silver vase in her hand, but they were not like the figure-head, for they had sweet, kind faces, and could laugh and cry. The merman made a most respectful bow, for he knew how to do it.
“Well,” said Panope, kindly, “can we do anything for you?”
“Lovely nymphs,” said the merman, “have you seen a ship pass this way with one of your fair sisters on its prow?”
“One of our sisters?” said Arethusa, a little haughtily. “That seems very unlikely.”
“I assure you she is, my lady,” said the merman, reverently but firmly. “She has her name, The Sea-nymph, written below her.”
“He has lost his wits,” said Panope, sighing.
“What a pity! Such a handsome youth!”
“You don’t mean that wooden figure-head?” cried Arethusa.