It was still early, not nine o'clock. The sea lay calm and empty all
about her. Was she really the only person in Valpré, she wondered, who
cared for a morning dip? She had swum some way from the little town, and
now found herself nearing the point where the rocks jutted far out to the
sea. The Magic Cave was at no great distance. She saw the darkness of it
and the water foaming white against the cliffs. Even in the morning
light it was an awesome spot, and she remembered how her friend had told
her that the dragon was there when the tide was up. With a timidity
half-actual, half-assumed, she began to swim back to her starting-point.

Half-way back, feeling tired, she allowed herself a rest in consideration
of the fact that this was the longest swim that she had ever undertaken.
Serenely she lay on the water with her hair floating about her. The
morning was perfect, the sea like a lake. Overhead sailed a gull with no
flap of wings. She wondered how he did it, and longed to do the same. It
must be very nice to be a gull.

Regretfully at length--for she was still feeling a little weary--she
resumed her leisurely journey towards the shore. As she did so she caught
the sound of oars grating in rowlocks. She turned her head, saw a boat
cutting through the water at a prodigious rate not twenty strokes from
her, caught a glimpse of its one rower, and without a second's hesitation
flung up an imperious arm.

"Stop!" she cried. "It's me!"

He ceased to row on the instant, but the boat shot on. She saw the
concern in his face as he brought it back. His black head shone wet in
the sunlight. He was evidently returning from a bathe himself.