My Brave and Gallant Gentleman Part 35

Why, of course! there were plenty of wonderful Marys. Notwithstanding, I could not altogether shake off the feeling of regret that came to me with the discovery that the young lady over the way was called Mary.

Had her name been Marguerite, or Dorothea, Millicent or even Rosemary, I would have been contented and would have considered the name a fitting one,--but to be common-or-garden Mary!

Oh, well!--what mattered it anyway? The name did not detract from the attractiveness of her long, wavy, golden hair, nor did it change the colour or lessen the transparency of her eyes. It did not interfere with her deft fingers as they travelled so artistically over the keyboard of her piano; although I kept wis.h.i.+ng, in a half-wishful way, that it could have changed her tantalising and exasperating demeanour toward me.

From the beginning, we had played antagonists, and from the beginning this playing antagonists had been distasteful to me.

What was it in me? I wondered,--what was it in her that caused the mental ferment? I had not the slightest notion, unless it were a resentfulness in me at being taken only for what I, myself, had chosen to become,--store-clerk in an out-of-the-way settlement; or an annoyance in her because one of my station should place himself on terms of social equality with every person he happened to meet.

I was George Bremner to her. True! Then,--she was merely Mary Grant to me. Mary Grant she was and Mary Grant she would doubtless remain, until,--until somebody changed it to probably--Mary-something-worse.

As I day-dreamed, I felt the air about me more chilly than usual.

All the previous night, the sea had been running into the Bay choppy and white-tipped, but now it was as level as the face of a mirror, although everywhere on the surface of the water loose driftwood floated.

I let myself go, down the smooth shelving rock upon which I had been lying. I dropped noiselessly far down into the deep water. I came up and struck out for home,--all my previous la.s.situde gone from me.

I was swimming along leisurely, interested only in my thoughts and the water immediately around me, when something a bit ahead attracted my attention.

I was half-way between Rita's Isle and the sh.o.r.e at the time. The object in front kept bobbing,--bobbing. At first, I took it to be part of a semi-submerged log, but as I drew nearer I was quite surprised to find that it was an early morning swimmer like myself. Nearer still, and I discovered that the swimmer was a woman whose hair was bound securely by a multi-coloured, heavy, silk m.u.f.fler, such as certain types of London Johnnies affected for a time.

Whoever the swimmer was, she had already gone at least half a mile, for that was the distance to the nearest point of land and there was no boat of any kind in her tracks.

Half a mile!--and another half-mile to go! Quite a swim for a lady!

Afraid lest it should prove more than enough for a member of what I had always been taught to recognise as the more delicately const.i.tuted of the s.e.xes, I drew closer to the swimmer.

When only a few yards behind, she turned round with a startled exclamation.

It was Mary Grant.

A chill ran along my spine. I became unreasonable immediately. What right had she to run risks of this nature? Was there not plenty of water for her to swim in near the sh.o.r.e where she would be within easy hail of the land should she become exhausted?

Almost angrily, I narrowed the s.p.a.ce between us.

She had recognised me at her first glimpse.

"Are you not rather far from the sh.o.r.e, Miss Grant?" I inquired bruskly.

"Thank you! Not a bit too far," she exclaimed, keeping up a steady progress through the water.

She moved easily and did not betray any signs of weariness, except it were in a catching of her voice, which almost every one has who talks in the water after a long swim.

I could not but admire the power of her swimming, despite the evident fact that she was not at all speedy.

"But you have no right to risk your life out here, when you do not know the coast," I retorted.

"What right have you to question my rights, sir?" she answered haughtily. "Please go away."

"I spoke for your own good," I continued. "There may be currents in the Bay that you know nothing of. Besides, the driftwood itself is dangerous this morning."

She did not reply for a bit, but kept steadily on.

When I took up my position a few yards to the left and on a level with her, she turned on me indignantly.

"Excuse me, Sir Impertinence,--but do you take me for a child or a fool? Are you one of those inflated individuals who imagines that masculine man is the only animal that can do anything?"

"Far from it," I answered, "but as it so happens I am slightly better acquainted with the Bay than you are and I merely wished you to benefit from my knowledge."

"I am obliged to you for your interest, Mr. Bremner. However, I know my own capabilities in the water, just as you know yours. Now,--if you do not desire to spoil what to me has been a pleasure so far, you will leave me."

I fell back a few yards, feeling that it would have given me extreme pleasure to have had the pulling of her ears. And, more out of cussedness,--as Jake would put it,--than anything else, I kept plodding along slowly, neither increasing nor diminis.h.i.+ng the distance between us.

She was well aware of my proximity, and, at last, when we were little more than a hundred yards from the point of the rock at the farthest out end of the wharf, she wheeled on me like the exasperated sea-nymph she was.

"I told you the other day, Mr. Bremner, that you could not hide the fact that you were a gentleman. If you do not wish me to regret having said that,--you will go away. I am perfectly capable of looking after myself."

That was the last straw for me. I could see that she was a splendid swimmer and that she was likely to make the sh.o.r.e without mishap, although I could also tell that she was tiring.

"All right!--I'll go," I shouted. "But please be sensible,--there was a heavy drift of wood and seaweed last night. The seaweed always gathers in at your side of the wharf, and it is treacherous. Come this way and land ash.o.r.e from my side."

"Thank you! Mr. Bremner," she called back quite pleasantly, "but I came this way and saw very little seaweed, so I fancy I shall be able to get back."

Maddened at her for being so headstrong, I veered to the left of the rocks, while she held on to the right.

I did not look in her direction again, but, with a fast, powerful side-stroke, I shot ahead and soon the rocks divided us.

I was barely a hundred yards from the beach, when I heard, or fancied I heard, just the faintest of inarticulate cries.

I listened, but it was not repeated. In the ordinary course, I would have paid no heed, but something above and beyond me prompted me to satisfy myself that all was right.

I swung round and started quickly for the point of the rocks again. In a few seconds, I reached it and swam round to the other side. I scanned the water between me and the sh.o.r.e,--it was as smooth as gla.s.s, with only bobbing brown bulbs everywhere denoting the presence of the seaweed.

I looked at the beach, and across to Miss Grant's house,--there was no one in sight.

A feeling of horror crept over me. It was improbable,--impossible,--that she could have reached the sh.o.r.e and got inside the house so quickly.

I glanced over the surface of the water again.

Good G.o.d!--what was that?

Not fifty yards from the beach, and just at the point where the bobbing brown bulbs were thickest, a small hand and an arm broke the surface of the water. The fingers of the hand closed convulsively and a ring glittered in the sunlight. Then the hand vanished.

With a vigorous crawl stroke,--keeping well on the surface for safety,--I tore through that intervening s.p.a.ce.

Oh!--how I thanked G.o.d for my exceptional ability in diving and swimming under water.

As I got over the spot where I reckoned the hand had appeared, I became cautious, for I knew the danger and I had no desire to get entangled and thus end the chances of both of us. I sank down, slowly and perpendicularly, keeping my knees bent and my feet together, feeling carefully with my hands the while. The water was clear, but I could see only a little way because of the seaweed.