At this moment the sound of a horn was heard; a long, ringing blast, followed by a second and a third.

The girls sprang to their feet. "Hurrah for a swim!" cried Bell. "Come, bricks and trumps--I'll race you all to the tents!" And off they went with a flash of petticoats, leaving the chipmunk to speculate on the sudden upheavals of nature.

CHAPTER VII.

WATER PLAY

THE floating wharf, as has been said, lay at the end of a long, narrow slip that ran out on piers over the water. Down the slip, one by one, now came the Merryweathers and their guests, in bathing array, the boys shouting and skylarking,--the girls singing and tossing their long hair about. Jack and Phil brought out a long spring-board, and set it up at the end of the wharf; and then the fun began. Mr. Merryweather was the first to run along the board, and take a sober and dignified dive. He was followed by Gerald, turning handsprings, and carolling to the effect that he was a pirate king, he was; hurrah for the pirate king! Next came Jack, who turned a back somersault, ending with a n.o.ble splash; and so, one by one, like so many ducks, they dove and leaped and tumbled in, and splashed and swam about in the clear water. Peggy was with the rest, splashing as merrily as any of them; but Margaret sat on the wharf, in her pretty blue bathing-dress, her feet tucked under her, looking on.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'COME ON! COME IN!'"]

"Come on, Margaret!" cried Peggy. "Come on! come in! It's perfectly great!"

"In a minute," said Margaret. "I like to watch you a bit first; it takes me a little while to get my courage up."

"Come, oh, come with me!" sang Gerald, emerging from the water, at her feet, and clinging to the wharf, while he shook the drops from his hair and eyes. "Come swim with me and be my swan! Come where the duckweed twineth! Come!"

"Oh, Gerald, yes; in just a minute. Is it very cold?"

"Cold? No; just right. Liquid crystal, sparkling sapphire, perfection!

Come, you must have your swimming lesson. Forget the cheerful swain,--behold the stern instructor!"

He held out his hand with an imperative gesture. Margaret laid hers in it timidly.

"Let me get near the rope!" she said, rather nervously.

"Here is the rope, close by your hand. Now, then, hold fast! There we go!"

With one hand on the rope, and the other in Gerald's, Margaret slid into the water, giving a little cry as it bubbled up about her. "Gerald!"

"Right here, my lady. There; both hands on the rope now. Take it easy!

Now you are all right."

"Ye'--yes, Gerald. Oh, isn't it glorious?"

"Rather! It's really the element to live in, you see. A mistake was made somewhere. If I had but gills, I should ask no more of fate. As it is--"

He dove, and came up on the other side of the rope. "Don't you think I would be charming with gills,--pretty little quivering, rosy gills,--instead of side whiskers?"

"I never saw you in side whiskers," said Margaret, demurely, "so I cannot tell. You certainly don't seem to need the gills, though. How _do_ you manage to keep under so long? Yesterday, when you stayed down picking up these pebbles, I was sure something had happened. Really, Gerald, I was very much frightened."

"I ought to have been switched," said Gerald. "I never thought of your noticing. I say, come down with me, and I'll show you the trick of it.

It's just as easy!"

"Not for worlds!" cried Margaret, clutching the rope, as if she expected to be dragged from it by force. "I never should come up alive. Oh, look, Gerald! what are they going to do now?"

"Going to dive over the elephants. Do you mind--oh, here is the child, Toots. Toots, will you stay here by Margaret, while I take my place in the ring? You are sure you are all right, Margaret?"

"Oh, yes; do go. I want to see it. Gertrude, what _are_ they doing?"

"Look and see," said Gertrude. "Put your arms on the rope, and lift yourself higher. That's right."

Phil and Jack and w.i.l.l.y had placed themselves side by side, on their hands and knees, at the edge of the wharf, and were calling loudly for Gerald. He stepped back to the farther end of the float, then, running forward, soared into the air, over the backs of the "elephants," and came down straight as an arrow into the water; then, scrambling out, took his place in the row, while Phil performed the same manoeuvre.

Over and over and over they went, running, rising, plunging, rising again. Margaret grew dizzy watching them. Now Mr. Merryweather advanced, holding a rubber hoop, which was neither more nor less than the discarded tire of a bicycle. This he and Gerald held out at arm's length, and the other boys dove through it, amid the applause of the girls.

"Oh, pretty!" cried Peggy. "Do you do that, girls?"

"Gertrude does; I haven't tried it yet," said Bell, who was floating placidly, her arms under her head, her face turned to the sky.

"I am going to try," said Peggy. "May I, Mr. Merryweather?"

"By all means!" said the Chief, heartily. "Take a good run--steady, Jerry. Hold it out well--there! hurrah!"

For Peggy had gone through the hoop like a bird, and after a clean dive, was coming up again, radiant and panting.

"Oh, Peggy, how splendid!" cried Margaret, her eyes shining with pleasure and pride in her Peggy's prowess. "Gertrude, didn't she do it well? Such a pretty, graceful thing to do."

"_C'etait une corquerre!_" said Gerald, heartily. "_Elle est aussi une corquerre, la Peggy._ You will be doing it soon yourself."

"Oh, never, never! You cannot seem to understand, Gerald, that I am not _made_ for these things. I love to see them; I admire them intensely, but I cannot so much as think of trying."

"_Point de stonte pour Marguerite?_" said Gerald. "Alas the day! Because you really would do them so corkingly, you know, if only you should do them. Well, see here, I am going to give you a troll. You will like that, I am sure."

"A troll? I thought they were mountain goblins. I don't want one, thank you, sir! water nixies and pixies are as much as I can bear in the goblin line."

"Verb, not substantive!" replied Gerald.

"I troll, thou lettest thyself be trolled, he, she, or it sees you being trolled and wishes that he, she, or it had such luck. Observe!"

He climbed into one of the Rangeley boats that lay near the float, loosed her moorings, and, taking up the oars, brought her close to the rope. "Now, Margaret, catch hold; here, at the stern!"

"What are you going to do with me, Gerald? I fear thee, ancient mariner, I fear thy skinny hand!"

"I hold you with my glittering eye, you cannot choose but come. I am going to take you off a-trolling. Hold on tight with your hands, and let all the rest of you go, as if you had nothing to do with it."

He took a few strokes, slowly and easily. Margaret, clinging to the stern, was drawn along without effort or motion of her own. Her long hair floated behind her; her white arms gleamed like ivory through the clear water; her face was alight with pleasure.

"'Not wholly bad, Lysander Pratt?'" quoted Gerald, interrogatively.

"Oh, Gerald! it is almost too perfect! no, you needn't stop, I only said _almost_. The water feels like silk flowing by me: no, silk is rough beside it; it feels like--like--"

"Like water, possibly?" said Gerald; "stranger things have been."

"Well, there isn't anything else like it, is there? Oh! are you sure you will not take cold or anything, Gerald? I could go on forever, floating here--trolling, I mean."