nce of the big dive was
looked upon as the passing of a lad from boyhood into the manly stage,
upon which he entered through the Shangles Gate, and then swam back,
coming, as it were, of age amidst the shouts of his companions to swim
ashore and land upon the big boulders, where the boys bathed and learned
to swim in the calm weather, gazing the while in admiration at their
older companions.

For there was something very stirring in the act, and a stranger to the
place would hold his breath in dread as he saw Mark Penelly, who was the
finest swimmer at the port of Carn Du, climb up the side of the great
black rock upon some fine summer evening, then go round along the narrow
shelf of shaley stone, till he stood alone there forty feet above the
sea, his white figure as he rested against the black rock, every muscle
standing out from his well-knit frame, and his arms crossed, looking
like some antique statue in its niche.

There were plenty of young men who could perform the feat, but Mark
Penelly was acknowledged to be the master.

Dotted about the swelling surface there would be the heads of plenty of
swimmers--men and lads--some going smoothly along, mounting the rollers
as they came in, and descending softly into the hollows; others again
swimming to meet each wave, then rising a little, and with a plunge like
a duck or one of the great bronze-black shags, or cormorants, that sat
upon the rock-shelves, diving right through the mass of water, to come
out fairly on the other side.

Some would swim out to the little buoys, rest by them for a time, and
swim back. Others would make for one of the cinnamon-sailed luggers
lying at anchor, to go round and back, or would get into one of the
boats; while some, more venturesome, or really more confident in their
powers over the water, would go boldly out, perhaps a mile, to meet some
lugger coming in from the fishing-ground, sure of being taken aboard and
riding back abreast of the boulders where they had left their clothes.

To be a good swimmer was everything at Carn Du. They looked upon it as
a business--as part of their education--for no boy or man was counted
fit to go out in a boat who could not leap overboard and swim alongside,
or, during a capsize, keep himself afloat, and help to turn the boat and
bale her out.

But from the meanest to the best swimmer there, every one paused to
watch Mark Penelly standing statue-like up against the black rock,
waiting till a