The little girl, after playing some time with the seaweed, had climbed
into a small boat which lay at the edge of the advancing tide, and,
leaning over the stern, watched the little waves as they ran up one
after another. A few minutes after she had got into it, the rising tide
floated the boat, and it drifted out a few yards, as far as its
headrope allowed it. Ignorant of what had happened, the child was
kneeling up at the stern, leaning over, and dabbling her hands in the
water.

No one had noticed her. The boys had all deserted the beach. None of
the fishermen were near the spot.

Just before James Walsham came within sight of the sea, the child had
overbalanced itself. His eye fell on the water just as two arms and a
frightened little face appeared above it. There was a little splash,
and a struggle, and the sea was bare again.

At the top of his speed James dashed across the road, sprang down the
beach, and, rushing a few yards into the water, dived down. He knew
which way the tide was making, and allowed for the set. A few vigorous
strokes, and he reached something white on the surface. It was the
sunbonnet which had, in the child's struggles, become unfastened. He
dived at once, and almost immediately saw a confused mass before him.
Another stroke, and he seized the child's clothes, and, grasping her
firmly, rose to the surface and swam towards shore.

Although the accident had not been perceived, his shout and sudden rush
into the water had called the attention of some of the men, and two or
three of them ran into the water, waist deep, to help him out with his
little burden.