little waves of white. It could have belonged to the wildest dream.
"What in the world is it?" I asked.
"That," whispered Polynesia, "is what sailors for hundreds of years have called the Sea-serpent. I've seen it myself more than once from the decks of ships, at long range, curving in and out of the water. But now that I see it close and still, I very strongly suspect that the Sea-serpent of history is no other than the Great Glass Sea-snail that the fidgit told us of. If that isn't the only fish of its kind in the seven seas, call me a carrion-crow—Tommy, we're in luck. Our job is to get the Doctor down here to look at that prize specimen before it moves off to the Deep Hole. If we can, then trust me, we may leave this blessed island yet. You stay here and keep an eye on it while I go after the Doctor. Don't move or speak—don't even breathe heavy: he might get scared—awful timid things, snails. Just watch him; and I'll be back in two shakes."
Stealthily creeping up the sands till she could get behind the cover of some bushes before she took to her wings, Polynesia went off in the direction of the town; while I remained alone upon the shore fascinatedly watching this unbelievable monster wallowing in the shallow sea.
It moved very little. From time to time it lifted its head out of the water showing its enormously
