Standing between her and all hope of escape, he ventured to relax his grasp for a moment, to aid in the search for something to bind her with. In one second, like a bolt from a bird, she darted forward, and with one wild, flying leap, impossible to anything but desperation, she sprung sheer into the foaming waters and vanished!
Vanished but for an instant. Pet could swim like a fish, or a cork, or a mermaid, or anything else you please, while Mr. Rozzel Garnet had as intense an aversion to cold water as a sufferer from hydrophobia. As quickly as she had disappeared did her black curls glitter above the white foam again, as she dauntlessly struck out for the shore.
She had not far to swim, and she buffeted the waves like a sea-goddess; so, while Mr. Rozzel Garnet stood stunned, speechless, paralyzed, she had gained the shore, fled as fast as her dripping clothes would permit her along the beach, rushed up the path, then back again on the rocks up above, until she stood directly over the spot where the foiled villain still remained, as if rooted to the ground, unable to comprehend which end he was standing on, to use a strong figure of speech.
“Hallo, Mr. Garnet! how do you find yourself?” shouted Pet, from above. “Oh my! how beautifully you did it! My stars! you ought to have a leather medal presented to you for catching girls—you do it so cleverly.”
He turned and looked up; and there, in the dusk, bright starlight, he saw Pet all dripping like a Naiad, and her black eyes almost out-flashing the stars themselves.
“Curses light on her!” he hissed between his teeth.
“Thank you, Mr Garnet! Curses, like chickens, come home to roost, you know. Ah, you did it—didn’t you?” said Pet, provokingly. “Don’t you wish you had me, though? It’s slippery work holding eels, and dangerous to play with exploding bombshells, and stinging occupation pulling nettles; but the coat-sleeves that try to hold me will find a harder and more dangerous job than any of them. Good-night, Mr. Rozzel Garnet, and pleasant dreams; and remember, when you next try to captivate me, that earth, air, fire, and water were never made to hold me.”
“Ah! you may triumph now—it is your turn,” he said, looking up, livid with rage; “but mine will come yet! my time will come!”
“Well, it’s consoling to hear. I hope you’ll have a good time when it does come.” And with a taunting laugh, Pet darted off.
Little did either of them dream how closely that time was at hand.