“Thanks,” said George, and told the others to get in. Timothy jumped in, too, his big tail wagging nineteen to the dozen. George pushed the boat off into the surf and then jumped in herself. She took the oars.
She rowed splendidly, and the boat shot along over the blue bay. It was a wonderful afternoon, and the children loved the movement of the boat over the water. Timothy stood at the prow and barked whenever a wave reared its head.
“He’s funny on a wild day,” said George, pulling hard. “He barks madly at the big waves, and gets so angry if they splash him. He’s an awfully good swimmer.”
“Isn’t it nice to have a dog with us?” said Anne, anxious to make up for her mistake. “I do so like him.”
“Woof,” said Timothy, in his deep voice and turned round to lick Anne’s ear.
“I’m sure he knew what I said,” said Anne in delight.
“Of course he did,” said George. “He understands every single word.”
“I say-we’re getting near to your island now,” said Julian, in excitement. “It’s bigger than I thought. And isn’t the castle exciting?”
They drew near to the island, and the children saw that there were sharp rocks all round about it. Unless anyone knew exactly the way to take, no boat or ship could possibly land on the shore of the rocky little island. In the very middle of it, on a low hill, rose the ruined castle. It had been built of big white stones. Broken archways, tumbledown towers, ruined walls-that was all that was left of a once beautiful castle, proud and strong. Now the jackdaws nested in it and the gulls sat on the topmost stones.
“It looks awfully mysterious,” said Julian. “How I’d love to land there and have a look at the castle. Wouldn’t it be fun to spend a night or two here!”
George stopped rowing. Her face lighted up. “I say!” she said, in delight. “Do you know, I never thought how lovely that would be! To spend a night on my island! To be there all alone, the four of us. To get our own meals, and pretend we really lived there. Wouldn’t it be grand?”
“Yes, rather,” said Dick, looking longingly at the island. “Do you think-do you suppose your mother would let us?”
“I don’t know,” said George. “She might. You could ask her.”
“Can’t we land there this afternoon?” asked Julian.
“No, not if you want to see the wreck,” said George. “We’ve got to get back for tea today, and it will take all the time to row round to the other side of Kirrin Island and back.”
“Well-I’d like to see the wreck,” said Julian, torn between the island and the wreck. “Here, let me take the oars for a bit, George. You can’t do all the rowing.”
“I can,” said George. “But I’d quite enjoy lying back in the boat for a change! Look-I’ll just take you by this rocky bit-and then you can take the oars till we come to another awkward piece. Honestly, the rocks around this bay are simply dreadful!”
George and Julian changed places in the boat. Julian rowed well, but not so strongly as George. The boat sped along rocking smoothly. They went right round the island, and saw the castle from the other side. It looked more ruined on the side that faced the sea.
“The strong winds come from the open sea,” explained George. “There’s not really much left of it this side, except piles of stones. But there’s a good little harbour in a little cove, for those who know how to find it.”
George took the oars after a while, and rowed steadily out a little beyond the island. Then she stopped and looked back towards the shore.
“How do you know when you are over the wreck?” asked Julian, puzzled. “I should never know!”
“Well, do you see that church tower on the mainland?” asked George. “And do you see the tip of that hill over there? Well, when you get them exactly in line with one another, between the two towers of the castle on the island, you are pretty well over the wreck! I found that out ages ago.”
The children saw that the tip of the far-off hill and the church tower were practically in line, when they looked at them between the two old towers of the island castle. They looked eagerly down into the sea to see if they could spy the wreck.
The water was perfectly clear and smooth. There was hardly a wrinkle. Timothy looked down into it too, his head on one side, his ears cocked, just as if he knew what he was looking for! The children laughed at him.
“We’re not exactly over it,” said George, looking down too. “The water’s so clear today that we should be able to see quite a long way down. Wait, I’ll row a bit to the left.”
“Woof!” said Timothy, suddenly, and wagged his tail-and at the same moment the three children saw something deep down in the water!
“It’s the wreck!” said Julian, almost falling out of the boat in his excitement. “I can see a bit of broken mast. Look, Dick, look!”
All four children and the dog, too, gazed down earnestly into the clear water. After a little while they could make out the outlines of a dark hulk, out of which the broken mast stood.
“It’s a bit on one side,” said Julian. “Poor old ship. How it must hate lying there, gradually falling to pieces. George, I wish I could dive down and get a closer look at it.”
“Well, why don’t you?” said George. “You’ve got your swimming trunks on. I’ve often dived down. I’ll come with you, if you like, if Dick can keep the boat round about here. There’s a current that is trying to take it out to sea. Dick, you’ll have to keep working a bit with this oar to keep the boat in one spot.”
The girl stripped off her jeans and jersey and Julian did the same. They both had on bathing costumes underneath. George took a beautiful header off the end of the boat, deep down into the water. The others watched her swimming strongly downwards, holding her breath.
After a bit she came up, almost bursting for breath. “Well, I went almost down to the wreck,” she said. “It’s just the same as it always is-seaweedy and covered with limpets and things. I wish I could get right into the ship itself. But I never have enough breath for that. You go down now, Julian.”
So down Julian went-but he was not so good at swimming deep under water as George was, and he couldn’t go down so far. He knew how to open his eyes under water, so he was able to take a good look at the deck of the wreck. It looked very forlorn and strange. Julian didn’t really like it very much. It gave him rather a sad sort of feeling. He was glad to go to the top of the water again, and take deep breaths of air, and feel the warm sunshine on his shoulders.
He climbed into the boat, “Most exciting,” he said. “Golly, wouldn’t I just love to see that wreck properly-you know-go down under the deck into the cabins and look around. And oh, suppose we could really find the boxes of gold!”
“That’s impossible,” said George. “I told you proper divers have already gone down and found nothing. What’s the time? I say, we’ll be late if we don’t hurry back now!”
They did hurry back, and managed to be only about five minutes late for tea. Afterwards they went for a walk over the moors, with Timothy at their heels, and by the time that bedtime came they were all so sleepy that they could hardly keep their eyes open.
“Well, good-night, George,” said Anne, snuggling down into her bed. “We’ve had a lovely day-thanks to you!”
“And I’ve had a lovely day, too,” said George, rather gruffly. “Thanks to you. I’m glad you all came. We’re going to have fun. And won’t you love my castle and my little island!”
“Ooh, yes,” said Anne, and fell asleep to dream of wrecks and castles and islands by the hundred. Oh, when would George take them to her little island?
Chapter Five
A VISIT TO THE ISLAND
The children’s aunt arranged a picnic for them the next day, and they all went off to a little cove not far off where they could bathe and paddle to their hearts’ content. They had a wonderful day, but secretly Julian, Dick and Anne wished they could have visited George’s island. They would rather have done that than anything!
George didn’t want to go for the picnic, not because she disliked picnics, but because she couldn’t take her dog. Her mother went with the children, and George had to pass a whole day without her beloved Timothy.