"Papa! papa! I've waited almost an hour, and mamma is dying! They sent—"
But the end of the sentence was never reached. There was a splash, and then:
"Good God!" exclaimed a man upon the end of the pier. "He's fallen over."
Quicker than thought both Leith and Carlita had dashed forward just in time to see the tiny dark form swept out by the cruel tide, his little head just visible above the crest of the wave.
Singularly enough, none of the men upon the yacht seemed to have heard the scream, and not a hand was extended toward the boats.
And yet there was not an instant to lose.
"The boat; quick, captain!" Leith shouted hoarsely. "A child overboard!"
But the wind seemed to sweep the voice away down the stream instead of toward the lurching craft.
The small head was nothing but a speck now in the moonlight, and then it disappeared altogether.
Before any one could realize it, there was another splash, and Carlita knew the next moment that Leith's coat and vest were lying at her feet, that Leith himself had already gone in pursuit of that drowning child; and then a woman's shriek rose wild and clear upon the night air.