“I don’t want to be brave; I want to go home,” wailed Grace.

“So do I, and we shall go as soon as we are able to see where home is,” answered Harriet, forcing a laugh.

“Then why don’t you go?”

“I can’t.”

“I’m going.”  Tommy began to swim.  Harriet propelled herself up to her companion and grasped her by an arm.

“Tommy, you must obey me!  You don’t know where you are going.  You may be swimming out to sea for all you know.  Be a good girl and save your strength.  The night may become lighter later on, then we shall manage to reach the shore somehow.”

“But why don’t you go now?”

“Because I don’t know where the shore is, dearie.  We are lost, just as much lost as if we were in the middle of the Atlantic,” answered Harriet solemnly.

CHAPTER VIII

A NEVER-TO-BE-FORGOTTEN NIGHT

“Be brave!  Remember that you are a Meadow-Brook Girl, Tommy,” encouraged Harriet.  “We are swimmers.  We can’t drown unless we get into a panic.  There is a boat somewhere hereabouts.  I saw one sail into the cove, or the bay, whichever it is, before I went to sleep this evening.  The men surely will be coming out in the morning; then, if we are too far from shore to get in, we ought to be able to attract their attention.  They will pick us up.”

“Do—­do you think we are far from thhore?”

“I fear so.  Still, I can’t be certain about that.  I am dreadfully confused and don’t know one direction from another.  I wish the moon would come up.  That would give us our points of compass.  Perhaps the clouds may blow away after a little.  We shall at least be able to see more clearly after that.”

“Oh, I’m tho cold!  I’m freething, Har-r-r-i-e-t.”

“I will fix that.  Come, swim with me.  We will ride the waves,” cried Harriet.  The swells were long and high.  Now they would ride to the top of one, then go slipping down the other side on a plane of almost oily smoothness.  At such times Tommy would cry out.  Even Harriet’s heart would sink as she glanced up at the towering mountains of water on either side of them.  It seemed as if nothing could save them from being engulfed, buried under tons of dark water.  At the second when all hope appeared to be gone they would find themselves being slowly lifted up and up and up until once more they topped another mountainous swell.

Fortunately for the two girls, the tops of the swells were in most instances solid, dark water.  The strong wind having gone down, the crests generally showed no white, broken foam.  When such an one was met with it meant a rough few moments for the Meadow-Brook Girls and a severe shaking up.  Tommy had been in the surf on many occasions, when at the sea shore with her parents, and understood it fairly well.  Harriet had never been in the salt water, but was guided wholly by the instincts of the swimmer, of one who loved the water, and for whom it seemed almost her natural element, and in the excitement of the hour she at times forgot the peril of their position.  So far as she knew they might already be far out to sea, with a mile or more of salt water underneath them.