So out there in the darkness the girls knelt, with their heads bent on the railing looking seaward, while Ruth’s voice led them in the beautiful old evening prayer.
“‘Lighten our darkness we beseech Thee, O Lord, and of Thy great mercy save and defend us from all perils and dangers of this night; for the love of Thy only son, our Saviour, Jesus Christ.’”
And from the far corner of the veranda, they heard Aunty Welcome’s deep-toned response, “Amen, chile, Amen.”
At ten o’clock sharp the next morning the girls saw the Captain’s dory round the curve of the bay shore from Fair Havens, and make for the Knob. Nancy waved her hand to them, her face shaded by a pink sunbonnet. The girls were already in the water, paddling around in their new swimming suits, and splashing one another. Ted, Kate, and Polly, could just manage to keep their chins above water, and float, but the rest kept at waist-deep limits.
“We brought along some ring buoys,” said Nancy, as she stepped out of the dory, and helped run it up the beach. “That’s how I learned to swim. If you just hold on to one and start out with your feet, you can learn to use one arm at a time.”
That they were very willing and obedient pupils, even the Captain had to admit. Nancy was the teacher, while the Captain stood by in case of trouble, and gave orders.
“Let yourself go,” Nancy urged Sue, as the latter clung closely to her in the deep water. “Just let yourself go, and you’ll find out you’re floating.”
Sue obeyed, willingly enough, and the next instant a pair of stockinged feet waved in the air above the water. As Nancy pulled her up, spluttering, she laughed, and insisted on going ahead, and before she realized it she was making the stroke properly and could keep herself afloat.
Polly had caught the stroke almost at once, and was swimming around helping Nancy. Ruth and Kate went about it practically, counting their strokes, and trying first in water up to their armpits. But Isabel waded in and sat down at ease in the water, just where the waves could curl up around her comfortably. Then she proceeded to loosen her hair, and give it a good wetting. Then back on a rock she climbed, and sat there, letting it dry in the sun.
“Come on in,” called Polly, splashing her with water. “You mustn’t sit up on that rock and play you’re a nixie or a mermaid while we have to work so hard. Come on in, and swim.”