always do."
"I'm sure _he_ doesn't," contradicted Ruby, feeling angry with herselfas well as Bertrand. "Let's go to the window and peep in before we lookat the caves."
She ran round to the front, followed by her cousin, taking care to makeas little sound as possible. She remembered on which side of the doorwas the kitchen, and softly approached what she knew must be its window.But how surprised she was when she looked in! It was the kitchen; sheremembered the shape of the room; she recognised the neat littlefireplace, but all was completely deserted. Every trace of furniturehad disappeared; old Adam's large chair by the hearth might never havebeen in existence, well as she remembered it. Except that it was cleanand swept, the room might not have, been inhabited for years.
Ruby turned to Bertrand, who was staring in at another window.
"I say, Ruby," he whispered, "the room over here is quite--"
"I know," she said. "So is the kitchen. They're gone, Bertrand, quitegone, and we've had all our trouble for nothing. It's too bad."
"_They_!" repeated Bertrand, "you can't say _they_, when you know thatWinfried is locked up in the turret-room."
"Oh," exclaimed Ruby starting, "I quite forgot. He must have hidden hisgrandfather somewhere. And yet I don't see how they could have managedit so quietly. We always know when any of the village people are movingtheir furniture; they send to borrow our carts."
"Well," said Bertrand, "there's one thing certain. If you didn'tbelieve it before, you must now; I should think even Mavis would--theold fellow _is_ a wizard, and so's his precious grandson."
"Shall we go into the house?" said Ruby, though she looked half afraidto do so.
"Isn't the door locked?" said Bertrand, trying it as he spoke. Ityielded to his touch; he went in, followed, though tremblingly, by Ruby.
But after all there was little or nothing to see; the three rooms,though scrupulously clean, even the windows shining bright and polished,were perfectly empty. As the children strolled back to the kitchen,annoyed and disappointed, feeling, to tell the truth, rather small,something caught Ruby's eye in one corner of the room. It was a smallobject, gleaming bright and blue on the white stones of the floor. Sheran forward and picked it up, it was a tiny bunch of forget-me-nots tiedwith a scrap of ribbon; the same large brilliant kind of forget-me-notas those which she and Mavis had so admired on their first visit to thenow deserted cottage. She gave a little cry.
"Look, Bertrand," she said, "they can't have been long gone. Theseflowers are quite fresh. I wonder where they came from. They must havebeen growing in a pot in the house, for there are none in the garden. Ilooked as we came through."
Bertrand glanced at the flowers carelessly.
"Wizards," he began, "can--"
But his sentence was never finished. For as he spoke there came asudden gust of wind down the wide chimney, so loud and furious that itwas as startling as a clap of thunder. Then it subsided again, but fora moment or two a long low wail sounded overhead, gradually dying awayin the distance.
"What was that?" said Bertrand. While the sounds lasted both childrenhad stood perfectly still.
"The wind of course," said Ruby. She was more accustomed than hercousin to the unexpected vagaries of the storm spirits so near the sea,still even she seemed startled. "It's often like that," she wasbeginning to say, but she hesitated. "It _was_ very loud," she added.
"There must be rough weather coming," said Bertrand. "We'd better gohome by the road, I think, Ruby."
"_We_," exclaimed Ruby indignantly. "Do you mean you and me, Bertrand?And what about Mavis?"
"She can come on shore," replied the boy carelessly. "She knows wherewe are. It's her own fault. Come along, there's nothing to wait for inthis empty old hole. I want you to show me the caves outside."
"I'll try to signal to Mavis first," said Ruby. "I'll tie myhandkerchief to a stick and wave it about. She can see us up here quitewell, and perhaps when she finds we're alone she'll come."
They left the cottage, and Ruby got out her handkerchief. But it wassmall use. For just as they stepped on to the rough little terrace infront from whence they could clearly see the shore, there came anotherand even--it seemed so at least now they were standing outside--moreviolent blast. It was all Ruby could do to keep her feet, and when sherecovered from the giddying effect of the wind she was still breathlessand shaken. And that the hurricane was gathering strength every secondwas plain to be seen; the waves were dashing in excitedly, the sky atone side had that strange lurid purple colour which foretells greatdisturbance.
But it was not these things only which made Ruby turn pale and shiver.
"Bertrand," she gasped, "I don't know if there's something the matterwith my eyes, I can't see clearly--Bertrand--look--where is Mavis--Mavisand the boat; can you see them?"
Bertrand shaded his brow with his hand and gazed.
"'Pon my soul," he said, "it's very odd. _I_ can't see them. Andthere's not been time for Mavis to have rowed out to sea or even to havedrifted out; we can see right out ever so far, and there's no boat; nota sign of one."
"Can--can she have landed and dragged the boat ashore somehow?" saidRuby, her teeth chattering with cold and fear.
"No," said Bertrand, "we'd certainly see her and the boat in that case."
"Then, where is she?" cried Ruby. "_Bertrand_, you must care. What doyou think has become of her?"
"Can't say, I'm sure," said the boy. "The boat may have capsized: thesea's awfully rough now."
"Do you mean that Mavis may be drowned or drowning?" screamed Ruby. Shehad to scream, even had she been less terribly excited, for the roar ofwind was on them again, and her voice was scarcely audible.
"I don't see that she need be drowned," said Bertrand. "It's shallow.She _may_ have crept on shore, and be lying somewhere among those bigstones; and if not, can't your precious wizard friends look after her?She's fond enough of them."
He was partly in earnest; but Ruby took it all as cruel heartlessmocking. She turned upon him furiously.
"You're a brutal wicked boy," she screamed. "I wish you were drowned; Iwish you had never come near us; I wish--" she stopped, choked by herfury and misery, and by the wind which came tearing round again.
Bertrand came close to her.
"As you're so busy wishing," he called into her ear, "you'd better wishyou hadn't done what you have done yourself. It was all you who startedthe plan, and settled how we were to trick Winfried into theturret-room; you know you did."
"And did I plan to drown Mavis, my own darling little sister?" returnedRuby as well as she could speak between her sobs and breathlessness."Come down to the shore with me this moment and help me to look for her,if you're not altogether a cruel heartless bully."
"Not I," said Bertrand, "we'd probably get drowned ourselves. Just seehow the waves come leaping in; they look as if they were alive. Ibelieve it's all witches' work together. I'm not going to trust myselfdown there. Come and show me the grottoes and the caves, Ruby. We mayas well shelter in them till the wind goes down a bit. We can't doMavis any good; if she's on the shore she can take care of herself, andif she's under the water _we_ can't reach her;" and he caught hold ofRuby to pull her along, but she tore herself from his grasp with awrench.
"You wicked, you heartless, brutal boy," she cried.
"I don't care if I am drowned; I would rather be drowned with Mavis thanstay alive with you."
And almost before Bertrand knew what she was doing, Ruby was rushingthrough the little garden at the back of the cottage on her way todescend the rough path to the shore.
He stood looking after her coolly for a moment or two with his hands inhis pockets. He tried to whistle, but it was not very successful; thewind had the best of it.
"I don't believe Mavis has come to any harm," he said aloud, thoughspeaking to himself, and almost as if trying to excuse his own conduct."Anyway, I don't see that it's my business to look after her, it was allher own obstinacy."
/> He kicked roughly at the pebbles at his feet, and as he did so, hisglance fell on a tiny speck of colour just where he was kicking. It wasone of the blue flowers Ruby had found in the cottage. Bertrand stoopedand picked it up, and, strange to say, he handled it gently. But as helooked at it there came again to him the queer smarting pain in his eyeswhich he had complained of in the turret-room, and