To make amends¹ to Monica for having doubted her word, Lorraine took her on Saturday afternoon to see the Castletons. They found all the younger members of that interesting family amusing themselves in the garden, digging their war plots and sweeping² up dead leaves. They were warm-hearted, friendly children, and adopted Monica immediately. By the end of ten minutes she was seated on the dead leaves inside the wheel-barrow, nursing Perugia, with Madox squatting³ at her feet, Beata and Romola chattering⁴ one on each side, while Lilith and Constable⁵ brought dilapidated toys for her inspection⁶. As she seemed to be perfectly⁷ happy and to be thoroughly⁸ enjoying herself, Lorraine suggested leaving her there for a while.  
"I thought perhaps you'd like to come and walk with me?" she said to Claudia.
 
"I'd love it above everything. May Morland and Landry go too?"
 
"Why, of course, if they care to!"
 
"You won't mind Landry?" Claudia hesitated and blushed rosy⁹ pink. "You know he's not quite the same as other boys. You mustn't expect [76]too much from him. But he's very affectionate, and he likes to come with us."
 
"Oh, please bring him! I quite understand!"
 
Lorraine had indeed seen at once, without any explanation from Claudia, that poor Landry, in spite of his fourteen years, was more childish than Madox. He was a fine well-grown boy, in features perhaps the most beautiful of all the handsome family, with china blue eyes and pale gold hair that curled from the roots, and a mouth that would have done credit to one of Botticelli's cherubs¹¹. In mind, however, Landry had never advanced beyond the age of seven. He was quiet and inoffensive, spoke¹² little, and seemed to live in a sort of dream world of his own. He was devoted¹³ to Claudia, and quite happy and contented¹⁴ if he might follow her about and be near her. With the rest of the family, and especially with his stepmother, he was sometimes fractious, but Claudia could always manage him and calm him down. Her invariable kindness to him was one of the nicest features in her character. He clung to her arm now as the four young people set off across the moor¹⁵.
 
"He's been having rather a blow-up with Violet," explained Claudia. "It's your own fault this time, Landry, you know! Still, it's just as well to take a walk and let the atmosphere clear before we come back. Violet easily fizzes over, but she doesn't keep it up long. Where shall we go, Lorraine? You know the walks here better than we do."
 
[77]"Suppose we go past Pettington Church and along the cliffs to Tangy Point?"
 
"Right you are! Anything you like will suit us," agreed Morland easily.
 
So they turned through the farmyard and down the steep lane that led to the small church whose square grey tower and carved Norman doorway¹⁶ looked out across the green cliff-side to the sea.
 
"Father was sketching¹⁷ here yesterday," volunteered Claudia, pausing to peep in at the gateway¹⁸.
 
"What was he painting?" asked Lorraine, stopping also to look and admire, for the mellow¹⁹ October sunshine glinting on the grey walls and the autumn-clad trees and the gleaming sea made a picture all in russet and pearl.
 
"It's one of a series of illustrations for Matthew Arnold's poem, 'The Forsaken²⁰ Merman'. You know it, don't you? Well, this is 'the little grey church on the windy hill', where Margaret came to say her prayers. You remember she left her merman husband and her children in 'the clear green sea' because—
 
''T will be Easter time in the world—ah me!
And I lose my poor soul, Merman, here with thee.'
She promised to come back to them all, but she never came, so they went to look for her.
 
'From the church came a murmur²¹ of folk at their prayers,
But we stood without in the cold-blowing airs.
We climbed on the graves, on the stones, worn with rains,
And we gazed up the aisle²² through the small leaded panes²³.
She sate²⁴ by the pillar; we saw her clear:
'Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here.'"
[78]"That's the part Daddy's drawing—just where they're peeping in through the windows. He sketched²⁵ Lilith this morning for the youngest mermaiden; he's given her a little fish's tail, and she looks such a darling! And Beata and Romola are bigger ones, leaning on a gravestone with their arms round each other's neck, and garlands of shells in their hair, and Constable is holding up a great trail of sea-weed. Father's going to draw me as Margaret for one illustration; I'm to be sitting at my wheel 'in the humming town'. He's just bought a ducky little spinning-wheel on purpose!"
 
"What fun to be put in a picture!"
 
"No, it isn't! We all think it a horrid²⁷ nuisance to have to be Daddy's models and sit still for hours just when we want to do something else. But you'll like the merman picture, especially Lilith. She's really sweet!"
 
"You've seen the mermaid²⁶ carved on the chancel bench inside?" asked Lorraine.
 
"No, I haven't. I've not been to the church on week-days."
 
"I go sometimes. Mr. Jacques lets me practise on the organ," said Morland. "But I've never noticed any mermaid there."
 
"Oh, come in and look at her, then! She's worth seeing."
 
The church was open, so they stepped from the sunshine outside into the soft diffused²⁸ golden light glowing on sandstone pillars, oak-beamed roof, and saint-filled windows. It was newly decorated for harvest festival—great clumps²⁹ of Michaelmas daisies [79]hid the font, scarlet³⁰ bryony berries trailed from the lectern, and chrysanthemums³¹ screened the pulpit. The air was sweet with the scent³² of flowers. Lorraine led the way to the chancel, and, moving aside some torch lilies, disclosed to view the end of a choir³³-bench, where, on the ancient black oak, was roughly carved the figure of a mermaid, with comb and glass in hand.
 
"There's a story about her," said Lorraine. "There was a young fisherman who sang in the choir. He had such a lovely voice that it was more beautiful even than her own, and she fell in love with him. She used to come on Sunday evenings and sit outside the church to listen to him singing. Then, one day when he was out in his boat, she rose up from the waves and beckoned³⁴ to him. He rowed close to her, and she suddenly clasped him in her arms and carried him down into the sea. He was never seen again; and the villagers carved the picture of the mermaid in the church to remind people of what had happened."
 
"What a most amazing story! I must tell Daddy. Perhaps he'll like to draw that too," said Claudia. "By the by, where's Landry?" looking round anxiously after her charge.
 
"He's all right," Morland assured her. "He's gone up those dusty stairs into a little musty, cobwebby gallery. He always goes and sits there while I'm practising the organ. Can't think why he should like it; but he doesn't do any harm, so I let him. Look! You can see him."
 
[80]Morland pointed³⁵ upwards³⁶, where, at the west end of the church, ran a small gallery. Over its carved oak balustrade leaned Landry, like a cherub¹⁰ on a Jacobean monument. The sunlight, glinting through the window above, turned his golden curls into a halo.
 
"He's waiting for me to play," continued Morland.
 
"Oh, do!" cried Lorraine.
 
The organ was unlocked, so Morland seated himself and began to improvise³⁷ slow, dreamy, haunting music, that rose and fell through the little church like the murmur of the sea. Whatever faults of character the boy might have, his face was rapt when he played, and to Lorraine it seemed as if the very saints and angels in the stained-glass windows were looking and listening. Landry sat with parted lips and far-away blue eyes.
 
"He's always quiet when Morland is playing," whispered Claudia. "He loves music. I wish we could teach him. I've tried, but it's absolutely hopeless. He'd sit there all the afternoon, and I verily believe Morland would too, once he's started on that organ. We shall have to stop him if we want to go on with our walk. Morland! We're keeping Lorraine waiting!"
 
Morland came back from the clouds and closed the organ, Claudia beckoned Landry down from the gallery, and they stepped out again into the sunshine and the fresh salt breeze that blew up from the shore.
 
It was a beautiful path to Tangy Point, all along [81]the edge of the cliffs, with great rugged³⁸ rocks below, and the sea lapping gently on the shingle³⁹. Gulls⁴⁰ flashed white wings against the autumn blue of the sky, and linnets twittered among the gorse bushes; here and there a few wild flowers lingered, and Claudia picked quite a summer-looking bouquet⁴¹. The Point was a narrow spit of land crowned with a cairn, and here the young people climbed to get the view over the western sea.
 
"I believe all here under the water is the lost land of Lyonesse!" said Lorraine. "In King Arthur's days it was a prosperous place with cornfields and villages, and then the sea came and swallowed it all up. Fishermen say there's a castle and a church under the waves still, and that sometimes they can hear the bells ringing, but of course that's just imagination."
 
"Perhaps the mermaids⁴² live there!" laughed Claudia.
 
"You'd better send Lilith to look!"
 
"I say," said Morland, "there's a sort of a path down here. Are you game to come and explore?"
 
"Of course we are! It will be topping down on those sands. Leave your flowers here, Claudia; you can get them when we come back."
 
The path down to the sands was a scramble⁴³, but not particularly difficult for agile⁴⁴ young limbs. It led them on to a belt of rocks, where ghost-like little fishes were darting⁴⁵ across silvery pools, and small crabs⁴⁶ were scuttling⁴⁷ among tangled⁴⁸ masses of sodden⁴⁹, salt-scented sea-weed, and sea-anemones spread scarlet tentacles⁵⁰ in the clear [82]water. The wall-like, reddish-brown cliff rose almost sheer above, with gulls and puffins and guillemots and cormorants⁵¹ perched on its rugged crags, or rising to circle screaming in the air.
 
"Looks like the entrance to a cave over there!" said Morland. "Bet you six cigarettes to six chocolates I'm right!"
 
"You oughtn't to bet, you naughty boy!" returned Claudia. "Besides, we can't get any chocolates nowadays. We'll go and see, though, if it really is a cave. I love exploring."
 
To reach the place Morland had pointed out, they were obliged to struggle through jungles of brown sea-weed, and to slip down little precipices⁵³ slimy with green sea-grass, and to scramble over rough projecting points of rock, honey-combed into queer shapes by the action of the tide. A jump across a crevice⁵⁴ and a climb up a few feet of sheer precipice⁵² landed them at the entrance of the cave. Morland scrambled⁵⁵ in front, and gave a hand to the others.
 
They found themselves in a large, rounded grotto⁵⁶, the walls of which shelved gently in a series of natural ledges⁵⁷; the floor was dry, and covered with fine silvery sand, and at the far end lay a pile of timber, washed in perhaps from some wreck⁵⁸ by an abnormally high tide. The afternoon sun shone through the entrance and gleamed on little bits of mica⁵⁹ and spar in the walls, making them glitter like diamonds.
 
"What an adorable place!" exclaimed Claudia with enthusiasm.
 
[83]"Topping!" agreed Morland.
 
"A regular sea-nymphs' grotto!" exulted⁶⁰ Lorraine, and Landry, who was not given to words, smiled, and pulling out a piece of timber sat down upon it.
 
"A good idea!" said Lorraine, following suit. "Look here, I've just had a brain wave. Let's appropriate the cave, and call it ours. Except just in the August holidays, I don't suppose anybody ever comes here, so we should have it quite to ourselves. It shall be a real sea-nymphs' grotto. We'll get shells from the shore, and make lovely patterns with them all along those ledges, and hang sea-weeds about, and make some seats with those pieces of wood, and we'll come out here on Saturdays sometimes, and bring our lunch. What votes?"
 
"A1! I'm your man, or rather your merman!" grinned Morland. "Any good recipe for growing a fish's tail, please? A diet of whelks and winkles not welcome, for my digestion's delicate."
 
"It's a chubby⁶¹ idea!" beamed Claudia. "I'd love it, only I do bargain we keep it to ourselves. I don't want the whole tribe trailing after us every time we come. The little ones mustn't know anything about it."
 
"I shan't tell them, you bet!" declared Morland.
 
"It isn't a suitable place to bring children," agreed Lorraine. "I won't say anything to Monica, or even to Mervyn, because he'd be sure to blurt⁶² it out to her. It shall be just our own secret."
 
[84]"I expect it has been a sort of secret place," said Morland. "Those ledges look literally⁶³ made for smugglers. No doubt they kept kegs of brandy there, and chests of tea, and bales of silk and lace in the good old days."
 
"Why shouldn't we keep a few things here?" suggested Claudia. "A kettle, and a tin of cocoa and milk, and some matches, and a box of biscuits. Then we could light a fire and have a little feast any time when we came."
 
"A ripping notion. I'll make a sort of cupboard with some of that wood to keep the things in. We'll bring cups and saucers as well as a kettle."
 
"And a frying pan in case we catch flukes down in the pools," put in Lorraine eagerly.
 
"I'll tell you what I'll do," said Morland, quite roused to enthusiasm. "I'll come over on Monday and bring a saw with me, and a hammer and nails, and see what I can knock together in the shape of a cupboard and seats. Then next Saturday we'll tramp over and have our picnic."
 
"Splendiferous!"
 
"We'll have to come in the morning, because of the tide."
 
"Right you are! I guess we'd better be getting back now. I haven't grown my merman's tail enough yet to swim with, and I've no wish to stop here all night."
 
Morland kept his word, and went on Monday to the cave, armed with various useful tools. He could work well enough at anything that took his fancy, and, though he never knocked in [85]a nail at home, he toiled⁶⁴ here in a way that would have amazed his family if they could have seen him. Landry went also, and helped in a fashion. He could not do much, but he held pieces of wood steady while his brother hammered, and he collected whole pocketfuls of shells from the beach.
 
Morland whistled cheerily as he worked. He wanted to give the girls a surprise, and, as they were busy at school all the week, he had the field to himself until Saturday. His artistic⁶⁵ temperament⁶⁶ found scope in the decoration of the cavern⁶⁷; fresh ideas kept occurring to him, and he enjoyed carrying them out. He felt like a kind of combination of Robinson Crusoe and the pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood⁶⁸, with a spice of poetry running through it all.
 
Next Saturday Lorraine, having obtained permission from her mother to go to a picnic with the Castletons, started off, basket in hand, resisting the agonized⁶⁹ entreaties⁷⁰ of Monica, who implored⁷¹ to be allowed to accompany her.
 
"Sorry I can't take you to-day, Cuckoo! But you see they didn't ask you—only me. Beata and Romola aren't going either."
 
"But why shouldn't we all go, and Madox too?" wailed⁷² Monica the spoilt.
 
"It's too far. Look here, I'll ask Mother to let you have some of the Castleton children to tea one day. Would that content you?"
 
"Ye—es!" conceded Monica doubtfully. "But it doesn't make up for this morning. I think you're ever so mean, Lorraine!"
 
[86]"Poor old Cuckoo! But you know you couldn't really have come in any case, for you're to be at the dentist's by eleven."
 
"Strafe the old dentist! I wish he were at the bottom of the sea!" declared the youngest of the Forrester family, with temper.
 
Lorraine ran away at last, and pelted⁷³ up the hill to the Castletons' house, meeting Morland, Claudia, and Landry in the lane, whither they had fled to avoid a contingent⁷⁴ of younger ones. They were laden⁷⁵ with a cargo⁷⁶ of miscellaneous articles—a kettle, a pan, some plates, and various tins.
 
"It's like a young removal," said Claudia.
 
"Or emigrating to the wilds of Canada," laughed Lorraine. "I've brought an enamelled mug, because it doesn't break like a teacup, and a little old Britannia metal teapot that I prigged from the attic⁷⁷. It was only going to be sent to a rummage⁷⁸ sale, so we may just as well have it."
 
"Do mermaids drink tea, please?"
 
"No doubt they do when they can get it. Perhaps the smugglers taught them how."
 
Morland had intended to give the girls a surprise, and when they entered the grotto their amazement⁷⁹ quite came up to his expectations. The cave seemed truly transformed into a sea-nymphs' palace. Landry had worked untiringly all the week picking up shells, and these were arranged in patterns, with long pieces of sea-weed draped artistically⁸⁰ here and there. Fragments of wreckage⁸¹ had been neatly⁸² sawn and nailed together to form a cupboard, a table, and some seats, and just inside [87]the entrance, in white pebbles⁸³, was the word "Welcome".
 
Landry, in his own way as pleased as his brother, stood beaming. Morland, though inwardly proud, affected⁸⁴ nonchalance⁸⁵.
 
"Couldn't make it look much, of course," he apologized.
 
"Much? Why, it's topping!"
 
"It's like a fairy-tale! However did you find time to do all this?"
 
"Oh! I just worked a bit," murmured Morland modestly.
 
The first picnic in the grotto was a huge success. To be sure the table was unsteady, and had a decided⁸⁶ lop to one end, and the benches felt slightly insecure, but the girls said that added an element of adventure, for you never knew when you might be suddenly precipitated⁸⁷ on to the floor. They put the cocoa, biscuits, and matches in tins, and stowed them away inside the new cupboard which Morland had placed in an angle of the rocky shelf, then, fearing that the rising tide would cover the shore below and cut off their retreat, they bade a regretful farewell to all their arrangements, promising⁸⁸ themselves the pleasure of coming often again.
 
It seemed too early to go straight home, so they spent the afternoon rambling⁸⁹ about the cliffs, watching the sea-birds or the waves that were dashing below. Time flew apace, and when they came down the hill again from Tangy Point the sky was golden with sunset. The warm evening [88]light flooded the common, where brown bracken grew like a forest, and goldfinches flitted about among a grove⁹⁰ of thistles. Lorraine, who had an eye for colour, picked a large wand-like sheaf of yellow ragwort, and, holding it over her shoulder, trudged⁹¹ through the thistles, sending showers of down to float in the breeze, and dispersing⁹² the goldfinches from their feast. With her eyes on the horizon instead of on the ground in front, she nearly walked into an easel that was stationed among the bracken. Its owner sprang up to save it, and Lorraine, stopping just in time, paused with her russet dress and flying brown hair a dark mass against the gold of the sky and the thistle-down background. There was a second of silence as a pair of clear hazel eyes grasped the picturesque⁹³ impression and registered it; then a mellow voice murmured: "Kilmeny!"