into the pool. The girl had mounted the ladder until her
face was just below the surface of the water. Her eyes met mine and I
knew that I had not misunderstood.

I threw off the instrument on my head, and dropped down beside her. With
both hands I grasped her shoulders, and, smiling, I nodded my head
vigorously.

She understood, I know she did. I read it in her face. When I climbed
the ladder again, she looked after me, smiling confidently.

Although I had not spoken to her, she had read and accepted the
promise.

* * * * *

Mercer stared at me silently, grimly, as I told him what I wished.
Whatever eloquence I may have, I used on him, and I saw his cold,
scientific mind waver before the warmth of my appeal.

"We have no right to keep her from her people," I concluded. "You saw
her mother and father, saw their suffering, and the joy her return would
bring. You will, Mercer--you will return her to the sea?"

For a long time, Mercer did not reply. Then he lifted his dark eyes to
mine, and smiled, rather wearily.

"It is the only thing we can do, Taylor," he said quietly. "She is not a
scientific specimen; she is, in her way, as human as you or I. She
would probably die, away from her own kind, living under conditions
foreign to her. And you promised her, Taylor, whether you spoke your
promise or not." His smile deepened a bit. "We cannot let her receive
too bad an opinion of her cousins who live above the surface of the
sea!"

* * * * *

And so, just as the dawn was breaking, we took her to the shore. I
carried her, unresisting, trustful, in my arms, while Mercer bore a huge
basin of water, in which her head was submerged, so that she might not
suffer.

Still in our bathing suits we waded out into the ocean, until the waves
splashed against our faces. Then I lowered her into the sea. Crouching
there, so that the water was just above the tawny glory of her hair, she
gazed up at us. Two slim white hands reached towards us, and with one
accord, Mercer and I bent towards her. She gripped both our shoulders
with a gentle pressure, smiling at us.

Then she did a strange thing. She pointed, under the water, out towards
the depths and with a broad, sweeping motion of her arm, indicated the
shore, as though to say that she intended to return. With a last swift,
smiling glance up into my face, she turned. There was a flash of white
through the water. She