CHAPTER VII
THE DWELLERS BY THE SEA
You soon get used to things. It seemed quite natural and homelike toPhilip to be wakened in bright early out-of-door's morning by the gentlebeak of the parrot at his ear.
'You got back all right then,' he said sleepily.
'It was rather a long journey,' said the parrot, 'but I thought itbetter to come back by wing. The Hippogriff offered to bring me; he isthe soul of courteous gentleness. But he was tired too. ThePretenderette is in gaol for the moment, but I'm afraid she'll get outagain; we're so unused to having prisoners, you see. And it's no useputting _her_ on her honour, because----'
'Because she hasn't any,' Philip finished.
'I wouldn't say _that_,' said the parrot, 'of anybody. I'd only say wehaven't come across it. What about breakfast?'
'How meals do keep happening,' said Lucy, yawning; 'it seems only a fewminutes since supper. And yet here we are, hungry again!'
'Ah!' said the parrot, 'that's what people always feel when they have toget their meals themselves!'
When the camel and the dogs had been served with breakfast, the childrenand the parrot sat down to eat. And there were many questions to ask.The parrot answered some, and some it didn't answer.
'But there's one thing,' said Lucy, 'I do most awfully want to know.About the Hippogriff. How did it get out of the book?'
'It's a long story,' said the parrot, 'so I'll tell it shortly. That's avery good rule. Tell short stories longly and long stories shortly. Manyyears ago, in repairing one of the buildings, the masons removed thesupports of one of the books which are part of the architecture. Thebook fell. It fell open, and out came the Hippogriff. Then they sawsomething struggling under the next page and lifted it, and out came amegatherium. So they shut the book and built it into the wall again.'
'But how did the megawhatsitsname and the Hippogriff come to be theproper size?'
'Ah! that's one of the eleven mysteries. Some sages suppose that thecountry gave itself a sort of shake and everything settled down intothe size it ought to be. I think myself that it's the air. The momentyou breathe this enchanted air you become the right size. _You_ did, youknow.'
'But why did they shut the book?'
'It was a book of beasts. Who knows what might have come out next? Atiger perhaps. And ravening for its prey as likely as not.'
'I see,' said Philip; 'and of course beasts weren't really _needed_,because of there being all the Noah's Ark ones.'
'Yes,' said the parrot, 'so they shut the book.'
'But the weather came out of books?'
'That was another book, a poetry book. It had only one cover, soeverything that was on the last page got out naturally. We got a lot outof that page, rain and sun and sky and clouds, mountains, gardens,roses, lilies, flowers in general, "Blossoms of delight" they werecalled in the book and trees and the sea, and the desert and silver andiron--as much of all of them as anybody could possibly want. There areno limits to poets' imaginations, you know.'
'I see,' said Lucy, and took a large bite of cake. 'And where did youcome from, Polly, dear?'
'I,' said the parrot modestly, 'came out of the same book as theHippogriff. We were on the same page. My wings entitled me to associatewith him, of course, but I have sometimes thought they just put me in asa contrast. My smallness, his greatness; my red and green, his white.'
'I see,' said Lucy again, 'and please will you tell us----'
'Enough of this,' said the parrot; 'business before pleasure. You havebegun the day with the pleasures of my conversation. You will have towork very hard to pay for this privilege.'
So they washed up the breakfast things in warm water obligingly providedby the camel.
'And now,' said the parrot, 'we must pack up and go on our way todestroy the fear of the Dwellers by the Sea.'
'I wonder,' Brenda said to Max in an undertone, 'I wonder whether itwouldn't be best for dear little dogs to lose themselves? We could turnup later, and be so _very_ glad to be found.'
'But why?' Max asked.
'I've noticed,' said Brenda, sidling up to him with eageraffectionateness, 'that wherever there's fear there's something to beafraid of, even if it's only your fancy. It would be dreadful for dearlittle dogs to be afraid, Max, wouldn't it? So undignified.'
'My dear,' said Max heavily, 'I could give seven noble reasons for beingfaithful to our master. But I will only give you one. There is nothingto eat in the desert, and nothing to drink.'
'You always were so noble, dearest,' said Brenda; 'so different frompoor little me. I've only my affectionate nature. I know I'm only asilly little thing.'
So when the camel lurched forward and the parrot took wing, the dogsfollowed closely.
'Dear faithful things,' said Lucy. 'Brenda! Max! Nice dogs!'
And the dogs politely responding, bounded enthusiastically.
The journey was not long. Quite soon they found a sort of ravine orgully in the cliff, and a path that led through it. And then they wereon the beach, very pebbly with small stones, and there was the home ofthe Dwellers by the Sea; and beyond it, broad and blue and beautiful,the sea by which they dwelt.
The Dwelling seemed to be a sort of town of rounded buildings more likelime-kilns than anything else, with arched doors leading to darkinsides. They were all built of tiny stones, such as lay on the beach.Beyond the huts or houses towered the castle, a vast rough structurewith towers and arches and buttresses and bastions and glacis andbridges and a great moat all round it.
'But I never built a city like that, did you?' Lucy asked as they drewnear.
'No,' Philip answered; 'at least--do you know, I do believe it's thesand castle Helen and I built last summer at Dymchurch. And those hutsare the moulds I made of my pail--with the edges worn off, you know.'
Towards the castle the travellers advanced, the camel lurching like aboat on a rough sea, and the dogs going with cat-like delicacy over thestones. They skirted large pools and tall rocks seaweed covered. Along aroad broad enough for twelve chariots to have driven on it abreast,slowly they came to the great gate of the castle. And as they gotnearer, they saw at every window heads leaning out; every battlement,every terrace, was crowded with figures. And when they were quite near,by throwing their heads very far back, so that their necks felt quitestiff for quite a long time afterwards, the children could see that allthose people seemed quite young, and seemed to have very odd anddelightful clothes--just a garment from shoulder to knee made, as itseemed, of dark fur.
Slowly they came to the great gate of the castle.]
'What lots of them there are,' said Philip; 'where did they come from?'
'Out of a book,' said the parrot; 'but the authorities were very promptthat time. Only a line and a half got out.
'Happy troops Of gentle islanders.
Those are the islanders.'
'Then why,' asked Philip naturally, 'aren't they on an island?'
'There's only one island, and no one is allowed on that except twopeople who never go there. But the islanders are happy even if theydon't live on an island--always happy, except for the great fear.'
Here the travellers began to cross one of the bridges across the moat,the bridge, in fact, which led to the biggest arch of all. It was a veryrough arch, like the entrance to a cave.
And from out its dark mouth came a little crowd of people.
'They're savages,' said Lucy, shrinking till she seemed only an extrahump on the camel's back.
They were indeed of a dark complexion, sunburnt in fact, but their faceswere handsome and kindly. They waved friendly hands and smiled in themost agreeable and welcoming way.
The tallest islander stepped out from the crowd. He was about as big asPhilip.
'They're not savages,' said Philip; 'don't be a donkey. They're justchildren.'
'Hush!' said the parrot; 'the Lord High Islander is now about to beginthe state address of welcome!'
He was. And this was the address.
/> 'How jolly of you to come. Do get down off that camel and come indoorsand have some grub. Jim, you might take that camel round to the stableand rub him down a bit. You'd like to keep the dogs with you, of course.And what about the parrot?'
'Thanks awfully,' Philip responded, and slid off the camel, followed byLucy; 'the parrot will make his own mind up--he always does.'
They all trooped into the hall of the castle which was more like a cavethan a hall and very dark, for the windows were little and high up. AsLucy's eyes got used to the light she perceived that the clothes of theislanders were not of skins but of seaweed.
'I asked you in,' said the Lord High Islander, a jolly-looking boy ofabout Philip's age, 'out of politeness. But really it isn't dinner time,and the meet is in half an hour. So, unless you're really hungry----?'
The children said 'Not at all!'
'You hunt, of course?' the Lord High Islander said; 'it's really theonly sport we get here, except fishing. Of course we play games and allthat. I do hope you won't be dull.'
'We came here on business,' the parrot remarked--and the happy islanderscrowded round to see him, remarking--'these are Philip and Lucy,claimants to the Deliverership. They are doing their deeds, you know,'the parrot ended.
Lucy whispered, 'It's really _Philip_ who is the claimant, not me; onlythe parrot's so polite.'
The Lord High Islander frowned. 'We can talk about that afterwards,' hesaid; 'it's a pity to waste time now.'
'What do you hunt?' Philip asked.
'All the different kinds of graibeeste and the vertoblancs; and theblugraiwee, when we can find him,' said the Lord High Islander. 'Buthe's very scarce. Pinkuggers are more common, and much bigger, ofcourse. Well, you'll soon see. If your camel's not quite fresh I canmount you both. What kind of animal do you prefer?'
'What do you ride?' Philip asked.
It appeared that the Lord High Islander rode a giraffe, and Philiplonged to ride another. But Lucy said she would rather ride what shewas used to, thank you.
When they got out into the courtyard of the castle, they found it fullof a crowd of animals, any of which you may find in the Zoo, or in yourold Noah's ark if it was a sufficiently expensive one to begin with, andif you have not broken or lost too many of the inhabitants. Each animalhad its rider and the party rode out on to the beach.
'What _is_ it they hunt?' Philip asked the parrot, who had perched onhis shoulder.
'All the little animals in the Noah's ark that haven't any names,' theparrot told him. 'All those are considered fair game. Hullo!blugraiwee!' it shouted, as a little grey beast with blue spots startedfrom the shelter of a rock and made for the cover of a patch of giantseaweed. Then all sorts of little animals got up and scurried off intoplaces of security.
'There goes a vertoblanc,' said the parrot, pointing to a bright greenanimal of uncertain shape, whose breast and paws were white, 'andthere's a graibeeste.'
The graibeeste was about as big as a fox, and had rabbit's ears and theunusual distinction of a tail coming out of his back just half-waybetween one end of him and the other. But there are graibeestes of allsorts and shapes.
'If your camel's not quite fresh I can mount youboth.']
You know when people are making the animals for Noah's arks they makethe big ones first, elephants and lions and tigers and so on, and paintthem as nearly as they can the right colours. Then they get weary ofcopying nature and begin to paint the animals pink and green andchocolate colour, which in nature is not the case. These are thechockmunks, and vertoblancs and the pinkuggers. And presently the makersget sick of the whole business and make the animals any sort of shapeand paint them all one grey--these are the graibeestes. And at the veryend a guilty feeling of having been slackers comes over the makers ofthe Noah's arks, and they paint blue spots on the last and littlest ofthe graibeestes to ease their consciences. This is the blugraiwee.
'Tally Ho! Hark forrad! Yoicks!' were some of the observations now to beheard on every side as the hunt swept on, the blugraiwee well ahead.Dogs yapped, animals galloped, riders shouted, the sun shone, the seasparkled, and far ahead the blugraiwee ran, extended to his full lengthlike a grey straight line. He was killed five miles from the castleafter a splendid run. And when a pinkugger had been secured and half adozen graibeeste, the hunt rode slowly home.
'We only hunt to kill and we only kill for food,' the Lord High Islandersaid.
'But,' said Philip, 'I thought Noah's ark animals turned into wood whenthey were dead?'
'Not if you kill for food. The intention makes all the difference. I hada plum-cake intention when we put up the blugraiwee, the pinkugger Imade a bread and butter intention about, and the graibeestes I intendedfor rice pudding and prunes and toffee and ices and all sorts of oddthings. So, of course, when we come to cut them up they'll _be_ what Iintended.'
'I see,' said Philip, jogging along on his camel. 'I say,' he added,'you don't mind my asking--how is it you're all children here?'
'Well,' said the Lord High Islander, 'it's ancient history, so I don'tsuppose it's true. But they say that when the government had to makesure that we should always be _happy_ troops of gentle islanders, theydecided that the only way was for us to be children. And we do have themost ripping time. And we do our own hunting and cooking and wash up ourown plates and things, and for heavy work we have the M.A.'s. They'remen who've had to work at sums and history and things at College so hardthat they want a holiday. So they come here and work for us, and if anyof us do want to learn anything, the M.A.'s are handy to have about theplace. It pleases them to teach anything, poor things. They live in thehuts. There's always a long list waiting for their turn. Oh yes, theywear the seaweed dress the same as we do. And they hunt on Tuesdays,Thursdays and Saturdays. They hunt big game, the fierce ambergris who isgrey with a yellow stomach and the bigger graibeestes. Now we'll havedinner the minute we get in, and then we must talk about It.'
The game was skinned and cut up in the courtyard, and the intentions ofthe Lord High Islander had certainly been carried out. For theblugraiwee was plum-cake, and the other animals just what was needed.
And after dinner the Lord High Islander took Lucy and Philip up on tothe top of the highest tower, and the three lay in the sun eating toffeeand gazing out over the sea at the faint distant blue of the island.
'The island where we aren't allowed to go,' as the Lord High Islandersadly pointed out.
'Now,' said Lucy gently, 'you won't mind telling us what you're afraidof? Don't mind telling us. _We're_ afraid too; we're afraid of all sortsof things quite often.'
'Speak for yourself,' said Philip, but not unkindly. 'I'm not so jollyoften afraid as you seem to think. Go ahead, my Lord.'
'You might as well call me Billy,' said the Lord High Islander; 'it's myname.'
'Well, Billy, then. What is it you're afraid of?'
'I hate being afraid,' said Billy angrily. 'Of course I know no true boyis afraid of anything except doing wrong. One of the M.A.'s told methat. But the M.A.'s are afraid too.'
'What of?' Lucy asked, glancing at the terrace below, where already theshadows were lengthening; 'it'll be getting dark soon. I'd much ratherknow what you're afraid of while it's daylight.'
'What we're afraid of,' said Billy abruptly, 'is the sea. Suppose agreat wave came and washed away the castle, and the huts, and the M.A.'sand all of us?'
'But it never _has_, has it?' Lucy asked.
'No, but everything must have a beginning. I know that's true, becauseanother of the M.A.'s told it me.'
'But why don't you go and live somewhere inland?'
'Because we couldn't live away from the sea. We're islanders, you know;we couldn't bear not to be near the sea. And we'd rather be afraid ofit, than not have it to be afraid of. But it upsets the government,because we ought to be _happy_ troops of gentle islanders, and you can'tbe quite happy if you're afraid. That's why it's one of your deeds totake away our fear.'
'It sounds jolly difficult,' said Philip; 'I shall have
to think,' headded desperately. So he lay and thought with Max and Brenda asleep byhis side and the parrot preening its bright feathers on the parapet ofthe tower, while Lucy and the Lord High Islander played cat's cradlewith a long thread of seaweed.
'It's supper time,' said Billy at last. 'Have you thought of anything?'
'Not a single thing,' said Philip.
'Well, don't swat over it any more,' said Billy; 'just stay with us andhave a jolly time. You're sure to think of something. Or else Lucy will.We'll act charades to-night.'
They did. The rest of the islanders were an extremely jolly lot, and allthe M.A.'s came out of their huts to be audience. It was a charmingevening, and ended up with hide-and-seek all over the castle.
To wake next morning on a bed of soft, dry, sweet-smelling seaweed, andto know that the day was to be spent in having a good time with thejolliest set of children she had ever met, was delightful to Lucy.Philip's delight was dashed by the knowledge that he must, sooner orlater, _think_. But the day passed most agreeably. They all bathed inthe rock pools, picked up shell-fish for dinner, played rounders in theafternoon, and in the evening danced to the music made by the M.A.'s whomost of them carried flutes in their pockets, and who were all veryflattered at being asked to play.
So the pleasant days went on. Every morning Philip said to himself, 'Nowto-day I really _must_ think of something,' and every night he said, 'Ireally ought to have thought of something.' But he never could think ofanything to take away the fear of the gentle islanders.
It was on the sixth night that the storm came. The wind blew and the searoared and the castle shook to its very foundations. And Philip,awakened by the noise and the shaking, sat up in bed and understood whatthe fear was that spoiled the happiness of the Dwellers by the Sea.
'Suppose the sea did sweep us all away,' he said; 'and they haven't evengot a boat.'
And then, when he was quite far from expecting it, he did think ofsomething. And he went on thinking about it so hard that he couldn'tsleep any more.
And in the morning he said to the parrot:
'I've thought of something. And I'm not going to tell the others. But Ican't do it all by myself. Do you think you could get Perrin for me?'
'I will try with pleasure,' replied the obliging bird, and flew offwithout further speech.
That afternoon, just as a picnic tea was ending, a great shadow fell onthe party, and next moment the Hippogriff alighted with Mr. Perrin andthe parrot on its back.
'Oh, _thank_ you,' said Philip, and led Mr. Perrin away and began totalk to him in whispers.
'No, sir,' Mr. Perrin answered suddenly and aloud. 'I'm sorry, but Icouldn't think of it.'
'Don't you know _how_?' Philip asked.
'I know everything as is to be known in my trade,' said Mr. Perrin, 'butcarpentry's one thing, and manners is another. Not but what I knowmanners too, which is why I won't be a party to no such a thing.'
'But you don't understand,' said Philip, trying to keep up with Mr.Perrin's long strides. 'What I want to do is for you to build a Noah'sark on the top of the highest tower. Then when the sea's rough and thewind blows, all the Sea-Dwellers can just get into their ark and thenthey'll be quite safe whatever happens.'
'You said all that afore,' said Mr. Perrin, 'and I wonder at you, so Ido.'
'I thought it was _such_ a good idea,' said poor Philip in gloom.
'Oh, the _idea's_ all right,' said Mr. Perrin; 'there ain't nothing tocomplain of 'bout the _idea_.'
'Then what _is_ wrong?' Philip asked impatiently.
'You've come to the wrong shop,' said Mr. Perrin slowly. 'I ain't theman to take away another chap's job, not if he was to be in the humblestway of business; but when it comes to slapping the government in theface, well, there, Master Pip, I wouldn't have thought it of you. It'sas much as my place is worth.'
'Look here,' said Philip, stopping short in despair, 'will you tell mestraight out why you won't help me?'
'I'm not a-going to go building arks, at my time of life,' said Mr.Perrin. 'Mr. Noah'd break his old heart, so he would, if I was to takeon his job over his head.'
'Oh, you mean I ought to ask him?'
''Course you ought to ask him. I don't mind lending a hand under hisdirections, acting as foreman like, so as to make a good job of it. Butit's him you must give your order to.'
The parrot and the Hippogriff between them managed to get Mr. Noah tothe castle by noon of the next day.
'Would you have minded,' Philip immediately asked him, 'if I'd had anark built without asking you to do it?'
'Well,' said Mr. Noah mildly, 'I might have been a little hurt. I havehad some experience, you know, my Lord.'
'Why do you call me that?' Philip asked.
'Because you are, of course. Your deed of slaying the lions counts oneto you, and by virtue of it you are now a Baron. I congratulate you,Lord Leo,' said Mr. Noah.
He approved of Philip's idea, and he and Perrin were soon busy makingplans, calculating strains and selecting materials.
Then Philip made a speech to the islanders and explained his idea. Therewas a great deal of cheering and shouting, and every one agreed that anark on the topmost tower would meet a long-felt want, and that when oncethat ark was there, fear would for ever be a stranger to every gentleisland heart.
And now the great work of building began. Mr. Perrin kindly consented toact as foreman and set to work a whole army of workmen--the M.A.'s ofcourse. And soon the sound of saw and hammer mingled with the plash ofwaves and cries of sea-birds, and gangs of stalwart M.A.'s in theirseaweed tunics bent themselves to the task of shaping great timbers andhoisting them to the top of the highest tower, where other gangs, underMr. Noah's own eye, reared a scaffolding to support the ark while thebuilding went on.
The children were not allowed to help, but they loved looking on, andalmost felt that, if they looked on earnestly enough, they must, in somestrange mysterious way, be actually helping. You know the feeling, Idaresay.
The Hippogriff, who was stabled in the castle, flew up to wherever hewas wanted, to assist in the hauling. Mr. Noah only had to whisper themagic word in his ear and up he flew. But what that magic word was thechildren did not know, though they asked often enough.
And now at last the ark was finished, the scaffolding was removed, andthere was the great Noah's ark, firmly planted on the topmost tower. Itwas a perfect example of the ark-builder's craft. Its boat part waspainted a dull red, its sides and ends were blue with black windows, andits roof was bright scarlet, painted in lines to imitate tiles. No leastdetail was neglected. Even to the white bird painted on the roof, whichyou must have noticed in your own Noah's ark.
They loved looking on.]
A great festival was held, speeches were made, and every one who hadlent a hand in the building, even the humblest M.A., was crowned witha wreath of fresh pink and green seaweed. Songs were sung, and thelaureate of the Sea-Dwellers, a young M.A. with pale blue eyes and nochin, recited an ode beginning--
Now that we have our Noble Ark No more we tremble in the dark When the great seas and the winds cry out, For we are safe without a doubt.
At undue risings of the tide Within our Ark we'll safely hide, And bless the names of those who thus Have built a painted Ark for us.
There were three hundred and seventeen more lines, very much like these,and every one said it was wonderful, and the laureate was a genius, andhow did he do it, and what brains, eh? and things like that.
And Philip and Lucy had crowns too. The Lord High Islander made a voteof thanks to Philip, who modestly replied that it was nothing, really,and anybody could have done it. And a spirit of gladness spread aboutamong the company so that every one was smiling and shaking hands witheverybody else, and even the M.A.'s were making little polite old jokes,and slapping each other on the back and calling each other 'old chap,'which was not at all their habit in ordinary life. The whole castle wasdecorated with gar
lands of pink and green seaweed like the wreaths thatpeople were wearing, and the whole scene was the gayest and happiest youcan imagine.
And then the dreadful thing happened.
Philip and Lucy were standing in their seaweed tunics, for of coursethey had, since the first day, worn the costume of the country, on theplatform in the courtyard. Mr. Noah had just said, 'Well, then, we willenjoy this enjoyable day to the very end and return to the cityto-morrow,' when a shadow fell on the group. It was the Hippogriff, andon its back was--some one. Before any one could see who that some onewas, the Hippogriff had flown low enough for that some one to catchPhilip by his seaweed tunic and to swing him off his feet and on to theHippogriff's back. Lucy screamed, Mr. Perrin said, 'Here, I say, none ofthat,' and Mr. Noah said, 'Dear me!' And they all reached out theirhands to pull Philip back. But they were all too late.
'I won't go. Put me down,' Philip shouted. They all heard that. And alsothey heard the answer of the person on the Hippogriff--the person whohad snatched Philip on to its back.
'Oh, won't you, my Lord? We'll soon see about that,' the person said.
Three people there knew that voice, four counting Philip, six countingthe dogs. The dogs barked and growled, Mr. Noah said 'Drop it;' and Lucyscreamed, 'Oh no! oh no! it's that Pretenderette.' The parrot, withgreat presence of mind, flew up into the air and attacked the ear of thePretenderette, for, as old books say, it was indeed that unprincipledcharacter who had broken from prison and once more stolen theHippogriff. But the Pretenderette was not to be caught twice by the sameparrot. She was ready for the bird this time, and as it touched her earshe caught it in her motor veil which she must have loosened beforehand,and thrust it into a wicker cage that hung ready from the saddle of theHippogriff who hovered on his wide white wings above the crowd of facesupturned.
'Now we shall see her face,' Lucy thought, for she could not get rid ofthe feeling that if she could only see the Pretenderette's face shewould recognise it. But the Pretenderette was too wily to look downunveiled. She turned her face up, and she must have whispered the magicword, for the Hippogriff rose in the air and began to fly away withincredible swiftness across the sea.
'Oh, what shall I do?' cried Lucy, wringing her hands. You have oftenheard of people wringing their hands. Lucy, I assure you, really didwring hers. 'Oh! Mr. Noah, what will she do with him? Where will shetake him? What shall I do? How can I find him again?'
'I deeply regret, my dear child,' said Mr. Noah, 'that I find myselfquite unable to answer any single one of your questions.'
'But can't I go after him?' Lucy persisted.
'I am sorry to say,' said Mr. Noah, 'that we have no boats; thePretenderette has stolen our one and only Hippogriff, and none of ourcamels can fly.'
'But what can I _do_?' Lucy stamped her foot in her agony of impatience.
'Nothing, my child,' Mr. Noah aggravatingly replied, 'except to go tobed and get a good night's rest. To-morrow we will return to the cityand see what can be done. We must consult the oracle.'
'But can't we go _now_,' said Lucy, crying.
'No oracle is worth consulting till it's had its night's rest,' said Mr.Noah. 'It is a three days' journey. If we started now--see it is alreadydusk--we should arrive in the middle of the night. We will start earlyin the morning.'
But early in the morning there was no starting from the castle of theDwellers by the Sea. There was indeed no one to start, and there was nocastle to start from.
A young blugraiwee, peeping out of its hole after a rather disturbednight to see whether any human beings were yet stirring or whether itmight venture out in search of yellow periwinkles, which are itsfavourite food, started, pricked its spotted ears, looked again, and,disdaining the cover of the rocks, walked boldly out across the beach.For the beach was deserted. There was no one there. No Mr. Noah, noLucy, no gentle islanders, no M.A.'s--and what is more there were nohuts and there was no castle. All was smooth, plain, bare sea-combedbeach.
For the sea had at last risen. The fear of the Dwellers had beenjustified. Whether the sea had been curious about the ark no one knows,no one will ever know. At any rate the sea had risen up and swept awayfrom the beach every trace of the castle, the huts and the folk who hadlived there.
A bright parrot, with a streamer of motor veiling hanging to one claw,called suddenly from the clear air to the little blugraiwee.
'What's up?' the parrot asked; 'where's everything got to?'
'I don't know, I'm sure,' said the little blugraiwee; 'these humanthings are always coming and going. Have some periwinkles? They're veryfine this morning after the storm,' it said.