‘You really are an idiot, Ju! Come on – let’s take the cliff-path!’ They went up the cliff. At the top it was very windy indeed. Anne’s sou’-wester was blown to the back of her head. The rain stung their’ cheeks and made them gasp.
‘I should think we must be about the only people out this morning!’ gasped George.
‘Well, you’re wrong,’ said Julian. ‘There are two people coming towards us!’ So there were. They were a man and a boy, both well wrapped up in macintoshes and sou’-westers. Like the children, they too wore high rubber boots.
The children took a look at them as they passed. The man was tall and well built, with shaggy eyebrows and a determined mouth. The boy was about sixteen, also tall and well built. He was not a bad-looking boy, but he had rather a sullen expression.
‘Good morning,’ said the man, and nodded. ‘Good morning,’ chorused the children, politely. The man looked them over keenly, and then he and the boy went on.’ ‘Wonder who they are?’ said George. ‘Mother didn’t say there were any new people here.’ ‘Just walked over from the next village, I expect,’ said Dick.
They went on for some way. ‘We’ll walk to the coastguard’s cottage and then go back,’ said Julian. ‘Hie, Tim, don’t go so near the cliff!’ The coastguard lived in a little whitewashed cottage on the cliff, facing the sea. Two other cottages stood beside it, also whitewashed. The children knew the coastguard well. He was a red-faced, barrel-shaped man, fond of joking.
He was nowhere to be seen when they came to his cottage. Then they heard his enormous voice singing a sea-shanty in the little shed behind. They went to find him.
‘Hallo, coastguard,’ said Anne.
He looked up and grinned at the children. He was busy making something. ‘Halo to you!’ he said. ‘So you’re back again are you? Bad pennies, the lot of you — always turning up when you’re not wanted!’ ‘What are you making?’ asked Anne.
‘A windmill for my young grandson,’ said the coastguard, showing it to Anne. He was very clever at making toys.
‘Oh, it’s lovely,’ said Anne, taking it in her hands. ‘Does the windmill part go round — oh yes — it’s super, coastguard!’ ‘I’ve been making quite a bit of money out of my toys,’ said the old fellow, proudly. ‘I’ve got some new neighbours in the next cottage – man and a boy – and the man’s been buying all the toys I make. Seems to have a lot of nephews and nieces! He gives me good prices too.’ ‘Oh – would that be the man and the boy we met, I wonder?’ said Dick. ‘Both tall, and well built – and the man had shaggy eyebrows.’ ‘That’s right,’ said the coastguard, trimming a bit of his windmill. ‘Mr. Curton and his son. They came here some weeks ago. You ought to get to know the son, Master Julian. He’s about your age, I should think. Must be pretty lonely for him up here?’ ‘Doesn’t he go to any school?’ asked Julian.
‘No. He’s been ill, so his father said. Got to have plenty of sea-air and that sort of thing. Not a bad sort of boy.
Comes and helps me with my toys sometimes. And he likes to mess about with my telescope.’ ‘I do too,’ said George. ‘I love looking through your telescope. Can I look through now? I’d like to see if I can spot Kirrin Island.’ ‘Well, you won’t see much this weather,’ said the coast guard. ‘You wait a few minutes. See that break in the clouds? Well, it’ll clear in a few minutes, and you’ll be able to see your island easily. That’s a funny thing your father’s built there, Miss. Part of his work, I suppose.’ ‘Yes,’ said George. ‘Oh Timmy – look what he’s done, coastguard – he’s upset that tin of paint. Bad boy, Timmy!’ ‘It’s not my tin,’ said the coastguard. ‘It’s a tin belonging to that young fellow next door. I told you he comes in to help me sometimes. He brought in that tin to help paint a little dolls’ house I made for his father.’ ‘Oh dear,’ said George, in dismay. ‘Do you think he’ll be cross when he knows Timmy spilt it?’ ‘Shouldn’t think so,’ said the coastguard. ‘He’s a queer boy though – quiet and a bit sulky. Not a bad boy, but doesn’t seem very friendly like.’ George tried to clear up the mess of paint. Timmy had some on his paws, and made a little pattern of green paw-marks as he pattered about the shed.
‘I’ll tell the boy I’m sorry, if I meet him on the way back,’ she said. ‘Timmy, if you dare to go near any more tins of paint you shan’t sleep on my bed tonight.’
‘The weather’s a bit clearer now,’ said Dick. ‘Can we have a squint through the telescope, coastguard?’ ‘Let me see my island first,’ said George at once. She tilted the telescope in the direction of Kirrin Island. Slit looked through it earnestly, and a smile came over her face.
‘Yes, I can see it clearly. There’s the tower Father has had built. I can even see the glass room quite clearly, and there’s nobody in it. No sign of Father anywhere.’ Everyone had a turn at looking through the telescope. It was fascinating to see the island appearing so close. On a clear day it would be even easier to see all the details. ‘I can see a rabbit scampering,’ said Anne, when her turn came.
‘Don’t you let that dog of yours squint through the telescope then,’ said the coastguard at once. ‘He’ll try to get down it after that rabbit!’ Timmy cocked his ears up at the mention of the word rabbit. He looked all round and sniffed. No, there was no rabbit. Then why did people mention them?
‘We’d better go now,’ said Julian. ‘We’ll be up here again sometime, and we’ll come and see what toys you’ve done. Thanks for letting us look through the telescope.’ ‘You’re welcome!’ said the old fellow. ‘You’re not likely to wear it out through looking! Come along any time you want to use it.’ They said good-bye and went off, Timmy capering round them. ‘Couldn’t we see Kirrin Island well!’ said Anne. ‘I wished I could see where your father was, George. Wouldn’t it be fun if we spotted him just coming out of his hiding-place?’ The four children had discussed this problem a good deal since they had left the island. It puzzled them very much indeed. How did it happen that George’s father knew a hiding-place that they didn’t know? Why, they had been over ever~’ inch of the island! It must be quite a big hiding-place too, if he had got all his stuff for his experiments with him. According to George’s mother, there had been quite a lot of this, to say nothing of stores of food.
‘If Father knew a place I didn’t know, and never told me about it, I think he’s jolly mean,’ George said half a dozen times. ‘I do really. It’s my island!’ ‘Well, he’ll probably tell you when he’s finished the work he’s on,’ said Julian. ‘Then you’ll know. We can all go and explore it then, wherever it is.’ After they left the coastguard’s cottage, they turned their steps home. They made their way along the cliff, and then saw the boy they had met before. He was standing on the path looking out ‘to sea. The man was not with him.
He turned as they came up arid gave them a pale kind of smile. ‘Hallo! Been up to see the coastguard?’ ‘Yes,’ said Julian. ‘Nice old fellow, isn’t he?’ ‘I say,’ said George, ‘I’m so sorry, but my dog upset a tin of green paint, and the coastguard said it was yours. Can I pay you for it, please?’ ‘Goodness, no!’ said the boy. ‘I don’t mind. There Wasn’t much of it left anyway. That’s a nice dog of yours.’ ‘Yes, he is,’ said George, warmly. ‘Best dog in the world. I’ve had him for years, but he’s still as young as ever. Do you like dogs?’ ‘Oh yes,’ ‘said the boy, but he made no move to pat Timmy or fuss him, as most people did. And Timmy did not run round the boy and sniff at him as he usually did when he met anyone new. He just stood by George, his tail neither up nor down.
‘That’s an interesting little island,’ said the boy, pointing to Kirrin. ‘I wish I could go there.’ ‘It’s my island,’ said George, proudly. ‘My very own.’ ‘Really?’ said the boy, politely. ‘Could you let me go over one day then?’ ‘Well – not just at present,’ said George. ‘You see, my father’s there working – he’s a scientist.’ ‘Really?’ said the boy again. ‘Er – has he got some new experiment on hand, then?’ ‘Yes,’ said George.