the slope, plunging in with an
impetus that sent him souse in head and ears under the surface; but, he
soon re-appeared to view and, swimming out to where the stick floated,
gripped it valiantly and made his way back to the shore, holding it in
his mouth crosswise.

Now, however, poor Rover experienced more trouble in climbing out than
he had probably anticipated; for, it being deep water at the foot of the
ramparts and the stones being slippery, as the animal got his fore-paws
on the stonework and tried to raise his hind legs, back he would slip
again into the sea.

"Poor fellow!" said Bob. "Why, he can't get up. I will go and help
him."

So saying, he began to clamber down the slope.

"Stop, boy, stop!" cried the Captain excitedly. "You will fall in!"

"Come back, Bob, come back!" screamed Nellie and her aunt together.
"Come back!"

But, hardly able to keep his footing, it was out of Bob's power either
to arrest his rapid descent of the downward slope or to retrace his
steps.

The very cries of warning, indeed, of those above brought about the
result they sought to prevent; for, looking up and waving his hand to
reassure them, Bob all at once lost his footing, rolling over and
plunging into the water right on top of Rover, his yell of dismay being
echoed by a howl of pain from the dog.

CHAPTER FOUR.

DICK TO THE RESCUE.

"Gracious heavens! The boy will be drowned!" exclaimed Mrs Gilmour,
wringing her hands frantically and rushing forward at once; while
Nellie, equally excited, burst into tears, clinging to her aunt's side.
"Oh, what shall I say to his mother? He's lost; he's lost!"

"No, he isn't--not a bit of it; no more drowned than I am," cried the
Captain, laying his hand on Mrs Gilmour's arm, and putting both her and
Nellie back, to prevent any rash impulse on their part. "You just keep
as cool as the young rascal must be now! I'll fish him out in another
minute, if you'll leave me alone; and, he'll be none the worse, barring
a wetting."

With these words, the spry old gentleman, who was more active than many
a younger man, began making his way cautiously down the treacherous
slope of the rampart, aided by his trusty malacca cane, poking his stick
between the niches of the stonework to act as a stay, and so prevent his
slipping on too fast.

But, quick as he was in his movements, hardly had he made a dozen
sliding steps down the decline, the action of the whole scene being
almost i