“I know,” shouted back George. “But maybe we’ll get back before it begins. It’s pretty far off yet.”
George rowed all the way to the island. Tim stood at each end of the boat in turn, barking when the waves reared up at him. The children watched the island coming closer and closer. It looked even more exciting than it had the other day.
“George, where are you going to land?” asked Julian. “I simply can’t imagine how you know your way in and out of these awful rocks. I’m afraid every moment we’ll bump into them!”
“I’m going to land at the little cove I told you about the other day,” said George. “There’s only one way to it, but I know it very well. It’s hidden away on the east side of the island.”
The girl cleverly worked her boat in and out of the rocks, and suddenly, as it rounded a low wall of sharp rocks, the children saw the cove she had spoken of. It was like a natural little harbour, and was a smooth inlet of water running up to a stretch of sand, sheltered between high rocks. The boat slid into the inlet, and at once stopped rocking, for here the water was like glass, and had hardly a wrinkle.
“I say-this is fine!” said Julian, his eyes shining with delight. George looked at him and her eyes shone too, as bright as the sea itself. It was the first time she had ever taken anyone to her precious island, and she was enjoying it.
They landed on the smooth yellow sand. “We’re really on the island!” said Anne, and she capered about, Tim joining her and looking as mad as she did. The others laughed. George pulled the boat high up on the sand.
“Why so far up?” said Julian, helping her. “The tide’s almost in, isn’t it? Surely it won’t come as high as this.”
“I told you I thought a storm was coming,” said, George. “If one does, the waves simply tear up this inlet and we don’t want to lose our boat, do we?”
“Let’s explore the island, let’s explore the island!” yelled Anne, who was now at the top of the little natural harbour, climbing up the rocks there. “Oh do come on!”
They all followed her. It really was a most exciting place. Rabbits were everywhere! They scuttled about as the children appeared, but did not go into their holes.
“Aren’t they awfully tame?” said Julian, in surprise.
“Well, nobody ever comes here but me,” said George, “and I don’t frighten them. Tim! Tim, if you go after the rabbits, I’ll spank you.”
Tim turned big sorrowful eyes on to George. He and George agreed about every single thing except rabbits. To Tim rabbits were made for one thing-to chase! He never could understand why George wouldn’t let him do this. But he held himself in and walked solemnly by the children, his eyes watching the lolloping rabbits longingly.
“I believe they would almost eat out of my hand,” said Julian.
But George shook her head.
“No, I’ve tried that with them,” she said. “They won’t. Look at those baby ones. Aren’t they lovely?”
“Woof!” said Tim, agreeing, and he took a few steps towards them. George made a warning noise in her throat, and Tim walked back, his tail down.
“There’s the castle!” said Julian. “Shall we explore that now? I do want to.”
“Yes, we will,” said George. “Look-that is where the entrance used to be-through that big broken archway.”
The children gazed at the enormous old archway, now half-broken down. Behind it were ruined stone steps leading towards the centre of the castle.
“It had strong walls all round it, with two towers,” said George. “One tower is almost gone, as you can see, but the other is not so bad. The jackdaws build in that every year. They’ve almost filled it up with their sticks!”
As they came near to the better tower of the two the jackdaws circled round them with loud cries of “Chack, chack, chack!” Tim leapt into the air as if he thought he could get them, but they only called mockingly to him.
“This is the centre of the castle,” said George, as they entered through a ruined doorway into what looked like a great yard, whose stone floor was now overgrown with grass and other weeds. “Here is where the people used to live. You can see where the rooms were-look, there’s one almost whole there. Go through that little door and you’ll see it.”
They trooped through a doorway and found themselves in a dark, stone-walled, stone-roofed room, with a space at one end where a fire-place must have been. Two slit-like windows lighted the room. It felt very queer and mysterious.
“What a pity it’s all broken down,” said Julian, wandering out again. “That room seems to be the only one quite whole. There are some others here-but all of them seem to have either no roof, or one or other of the walls gone. That room is the only liveable one. Was there an upstairs to the castle, George?”
“Of course,” said George. “But the steps that led up are gone, Look! You can see part of an upstairs room there, by the jackdaw tower. You can’t get up to it, though, because I’ve tried. I nearly broke my neck trying to get up. The stones crumble away so.”
“Were there any dungeons?” asked Dick.
“I don’t know,” said George. “I expect so. But nobody could find them now-everywhere is so overgrown.”
It was indeed overgrown. Big blackberry bushes grew here and there, and a few gorse bushes forced their way into gaps and corners. The coarse green grass sprang everywhere, and pink thrift grew its cushions in holes and crannies.
“Well, I think it’s a perfectly lovely place,” said Anne. “Perfectly and absolutely lovely!”
“Do you really?” said George, pleased. “I’m so glad. Look! We’re right on the other side of the island now, facing the sea. Do you see those rocks, with those queer big birds sitting there?”
The children looked. They saw some rocks sticking up, with great black shining birds sitting on them in queer positions.
“They are cormorants,” said George. “They’ve caught plenty of fish for their dinner, and they’re sitting there digesting it. Hallo-they’re all flying away. I wonder why!”
She soon knew-for, from the southwest there suddenly came an ominous rumble.
“Thunder!” said George. “That’s the storm. It’s coming sooner than I thought!”
Chapter Six
WHAT THE STORM DID
THE four children stared out to sea. They had all been so interested in exploring the exciting old castle that not one of them had noticed the sudden change in the weather.
Another rumble came. It sounded like a big dog growling in the sky. Tim heard it and growled back, sounding like a small roll of thunder himself.
“My goodness, we’re in for it now,” said George, half-alarmed. “We can’t get back in time, that’s certain. It’s blowing up at top speed. Did ever you see such a change in the sky?”
The sky had been blue when they started. Now it was overcast, and the clouds seemed to hang very low indeed. They scudded along as if someone was chasing them-and the wind howled round in such a mournful way that Anne felt quite frightened.
“It’s beginning to rain,” said Julian, feeling an enormous drop spatter on his outstretched hand. “We had better shelter, hadn’t we, George? We shall get wet through.”
“Yes, we will in a minute,” said George. “I say, just look at these big waves coming! My word, it really is going to be a storm. Golly-what a flash of lightning!”
The waves were certainly beginning to run very high indeed. It was queer to see what a change had come over them. They swelled up, turned over as soon as they came to rocks, and then rushed up the beach of the island with a great roar.
“I think we’d better pull our boat up higher still,” said George suddenly. “It’s going to be a very bad storm indeed. Sometimes these sudden summer storms are worse than a winter one.”
She and Julian ran to the other side of the island where they had left the boat. It was a good thing they went, for great waves were already racing right up to it. The two children pulled the boat up almost to the top of the low cliff and George tied it to a stout gorse bush growing there.
By now the rain was simply pelting down, and George and Julian were soaked. “I hope the others have been sensible enough to shelter in that room that has a roof and walls,” said George.
They were there all right, looking rather cold and scared. It was very dark there, for the only light came through the two slits of windows and the small doorway.