n, "and
a-shoving your book-larning at us. Look here, young 'un; a lad as can't
swim ain't--'cordin' to my ideas--hardly worth the snuff of a candle."

"I don't go so far as you do, Tom," said the young man, smiling; "but I
do hold that every young fellow should be able to swim well, and so I
learned."

"Yes, but you can't do the dive," said the man with his hands in his
pockets mockingly.

"Oh, he's going to do it," said the old fisherman. "The water's just
right, Master Harry. You go. Take my advice: you go. Just wait till
the wave's coming well up, then fall into her, and out you come, and the
current'll carry you out through the Shangles."

"And what the better shall I be if I do?" said the young man warmly.

"What the better, my lad!" said the old fellow, looking aghast. "Why,
you'll ha' made quite a man o' yourself."

"But I shall have done no good whatever."

"Oh, yes, you would; oh, yes, you would," said the party, sagely shaking
their heads and looking at one another.

"I don't see it," said Harry Paul. "If it was to do any one good, or to
be of any benefit, perhaps I might try it; but I cannot see the
common-sense of risking my life just because you people have made it a
custom to jump off Carn Du."

As he spoke he ran down over the boulders, and plunged off a rock into
the clear sea, his white figure being traceable against the olive brown
sea-wrack waving far below, as he swam for some distance below the
surface, and then rose, shook the water from his eyes, and struck out
for the lugger lying becalmed in the offing.

The party of fishermen on shore stood growling together, and making
unpleasant remarks about Harry Paul, whom they declared to be a terrible
coward--all but old Tom Genna, who angrily took his part.

"He's not a bad 'un at heart, and I believe he's no coward," growled the
old fellow.

"Then why don't he show as he ar'n't?" said the man with his hands in
his pockets, places they never seemed to leave.

"Ah, that's what no one can't say!" growled old Tom, and sooner than
hear his favourite swimming pupil condemned, he walked away, muttering
that, "he'd give a half-crown silver piece any day to see Mas'r Harry do
that theer dive better than Mark Penelly."

Meanwhile the latter had swum right out to the fishing lugger, where he
was taken on board, and it being one of his father's boats, he was soon
furnished with a blue jersey and a pair of rough flannel trousers, for
he di