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It had approached from round the entrance of the small bay and was
already within a few yards ere he caught sight of it. He dived
skilfully, and on returning to the surface beheld Mr. Keith smiling
upon him, with owlish benevolence, through his spectacles.
"How pretty you look," he said. "Just like a mermaid that's lost its
tail."
"You flatter me!"
"Not at all. Climb in and I'll take you for a row."
"Hadn't I better get some clothes on?"
"As you please. We can take you off that boulder if you want to dress."
"You're very kind."
Kind indeed. To admit a friend into one of his yachts or rowing-boats
was an act of rare self-sacrifice on the part of Mr. Keith, who
maintained that no vessel, not even an Atlantic liner, was large enough
for more than one passenger.
"You are comfortable in here," the bishop remarked, as he presently
stepped on board and looked around him. "Cleopatra's barge must have
been something like this."
"There will be no breeze worth talking about all day.


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