So here she was, painting rapidly—though far back in her mind was the memory of that blue shadow behind the rock....
The scene was forever changing. A cloud passing over the sun, dimmed the colors. Then a large school of small fish, darting forward at a furious rate, completely shut off her view.
But now! “Ah, now!” she thought, joyously.
A dozen tropical fish, the brightest and best she ever had seen, came to play about the ancient chest and “pose” for their pictures. With quick, deft touches she painted them in—two, staring large-eyed at the anchor—three, peering into the ancient chest, and three just “resting”.
But what was this?
Like a flock of birds that have caught sight of a circling hawk, the tropical fish darted swiftly away. Had they caught a glimpse of a dangerous foe, gliding from behind the rock? The girl thought so, and shuddered. She even fancied she had caught its color again—dark blue. But of this she could not be sure. Down here all was so strange.
“A villain,” she murmured to herself with a low laugh. “The final touch to a gorgeous setting.”
To quiet her shaky nerves she gave herself more intensively to completion of her task.
“There is no danger,” she assured herself again. “Grandfather says there is absolutely none—and he has spent days on end on the ocean’s floor.”
She recalled his very words: “Oh, yes, there are sharks in these waters—but they won’t harm you. If they should get curious and come too close—poke them with your stick! I’ve done that more than once.”