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Vere was conscious of a thrill that was like a thrill of triumph.
"He obeyed me!" she thought.
A pleasant feeling of power came to her. From her eyrie on the rock
she was directing these strange sea doings. She was ruling over the
men of the sea.
The empty boat swayed softly on the water, but its three former
occupants were all hidden by the sea. It seemed as if they would never
come up again. Vere began to hold her breath as they were holding
theirs. At last a dark head rose above the surface, then another. The
two men paddled for a minute, drawing the air into their lungs. But
the boy did not reappear.
As the seconds passed, Vere began to feel proud of him. He was doing
that which she would have tried to do had she been a boy. He was
rivalling the men.
Another second slipped away--and another. He was more than rivalling,
he was beating the men.
They dived once more. She saw the sun gleam on their backs, which
looked polished as they turned slowly over, almost like brown
porpoises.


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