“Poor girl, she is about done for!” muttered Harriet Burrell.  She turned Tommy over on her back and, placing a hand under the little girl, began swimming slowly.  The added burden was almost more than Harriet, in her benumbed state, was able to handle.  She knew that she could not support Grace and herself through the rest of that long, dark night.  She knew, too, that unless they were rescued, her companion would be past help by the end of another hour.  It already seemed hours since they had slipped into the sea and rode out on the crest of a receding wave.  Now her movements were becoming slower and slower.  She seemed not to possess the power to move her limbs.  It was not all weariness either; it was that dragging numbness that was pulling her down.

Harriet fought a more desperate battle with herself than she ever had been called upon to fight before.  She did not now believe that they would be rescued, but that did not prevent her keeping up the battle as long as a single vestige of strength remained.  It was sheer grit that kept Harriet Burrell afloat during that long, heart-breaking swim among the Atlantic rollers on this never-to-be-forgotten night.

But at last the girl ceased swimming.  Her limbs simply would not move in obedience to her will; her arms seemed weighed down by some tremendous pressure; her head grew heavy and her senses dulled.

“I believe this is the end,” muttered Harriet.  One great struggle, then her weary muscles relaxed.  For a few moments she floated on her back, turned over with a great effort, then settled lower and lower in the water, all the time fighting to regain possession of her faculties, but growing weaker with each effort.

Then Harriet Burrell went down, dragging Tommy with her.

CHAPTER IX

A SURPRISE THAT PROVED A SHOCK

It could not have been very long, not more than a few seconds, before Harriet Burrell’s benumbed senses began to perform their natural functions.  Deep down in her inner consciousness was the feeling that, though the surf was breaking over her, underneath her was something solid, immovable.  In a vague sort of way she wondered at this, but for the time being was too weary and dulled to reason out the cause of the phenomenon.

After a time the girl began to feel little pains shooting up her arms, reaching to her shoulders and down along her spine.  Again was her wonderment aroused.  Little by little her heavy eyelids struggled open.  But her eyes saw only black darkness and water.  Harriet, by a supreme force of will, now began to reason the cause.

“I am still in the water, but my hands and feet are on something solid.  What does it mean?” she thought.

Turning her head slightly, she saw that which increased her wonderment.  Tommy Thompson was sitting beside her, the little girl’s head leaning against Harriet.  It struck Harriet as peculiar that Tommy was able to sit on the water with nearly half her body out of the water.  Harriet then discovered that she was crouching on all fours.  It was a peculiar position for her, too.  She wondered, if able to maintain that position, why she might not stand up just as well.