Thus instantly Louise Grayling had a startling revelation, "Handle the
boat yourself, Betty!" she commanded. "_I am going to get him_."
Her skirt was dropped, even as she spoke. She wore "sneaks" to-day
instead of high boots, and she kicked them off without unlacing them.
Then, poising on the rail for a moment, she dived overboard on a long
slant.
She swam under the surface for some fathoms and coming up dashed the
water from her eyes to stare about.
The black squall had passed. The sea dimpled in blue and green streaks
as before. A few whitecaps only danced about the girl. Where Lawford
had gone down----
A round, sleek object--like the head of a seal--bobbed in the agitated
water. It was not ten yards away. Had she not been so near she must
have overlooked it. He might have sunk again, going down forever, for
it was plain the blow he had suffered had deprived Lawford of
consciousness.
Louise wasted no breath in shouting, nor moments in looking back at
Betty and the sloop. All her life she had been confident in the water.
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