CHAPTER VI.
ON THE CLIFFS.
"We saw the great ocean ablaze in the sun, And heard the deep roar of the waves."
The gate in question proved to be the level crossing, which had justbeen closed by the man from the signal-box to allow a train to passthrough. Charlotte and Aggie Wright and five of the Rokebys were allstanding upon the bars, hanging over the top rail and gazing at themetals with such deep and intense interest that you would have thoughtthey expected a railway accident at the very least, and were looking outfor the smash.
"What _is_ the matter?" cried Belle and Isobel, racing up to share inwhatever excitement might be on hand. "Do you see anything? Is it a cowon the line?"
"No," said Bertie Rokeby, balancing himself rather insecurely upon thegate post; "we're only waiting for the train to pass. We've put pennieson the rail, and the wheels going over them will flatten them out tillthey're nearly twice as big. You'd hardly believe what a difference itmakes. Would you like to try one? I'd just have time to climb down andput it on before the train comes up. I will in a minute, if you say theword."
"I haven't a penny with me, I'm afraid," answered Isobel, rummaging inher pockets, and turning out several interesting pebbles, a few shells,a mermaid's purse, and the remains of a spider crab. "Stop a moment! No,it's only a button after all, and a horn one, too, that would be smashedto smithereens. If it had been a metal one I'd have tried it."
"I've nothing but a halfpenny," said Belle. "It's all I possess in theworld till to-morrow, when I get my pocket-money. But do put it on,Bertie; it would be fun to see how large it makes it."
Bertie climbed over the gate and popped the coin with the others on therail, much to the agitation of the pointsman, who ran in great angerfrom the signal-box, shouting to him to get off the line, for the trainwas coming. He was barely in time, for in another moment the expresscame whirling by with such a roar and a rattle, and making such a blastof wind as it went, that the children had to shut their eyes and clingon tightly.
"You'll get into trouble here if you get over them bars when I've shut'em," grunted the pointsman surlily, opening the gates to admit awaiting cart from the other side. "I'll take your name next time as youtries it on, and report you to the inspector, and you'll get chargedwith trespassing on the company's property."
"Oh, bother!" cried Bertie; "I wasn't doing any harm. I can take jollygood care of myself, so don't you worry about me." And he rushedimpatiently after the others, who were already picking up their penniesfrom the rail.
"It's crushed them ever so flat!" exclaimed Aggie Wright, triumphantlyholding up a dinted copper which seemed to be several sizes too large.
"You can scarcely see which is heads and which is tails," said ArnoldRokeby.
"Just look at my halfpenny," said Belle; "it's twice as big as it wasbefore."
"Why, so it is! Any one would take it for a penny if they didn't look atit closely. Come along. They want to shut the gates again for a luggagetrain, and we shall have to clear out. We're all going to the Pixies'Steps. Are you two coming with us?"
"No, I think not," replied Belle. "It's too hot to walk so far. Isobeland I just want to stroll about."
"Then good-bye. We're off.--Come along, Cecil. For goodness' sake don'tgo grubbing in the hedge now after caterpillars. Even if it _is_ awoolly bear, you'll find plenty more another day.--Here, Arnold, youyoung monkey, give me my cap." And the Rokebys tore away up the roadwith a characteristic energy that even the blazing August heat could notquench.
"If we go behind Hunt's farm," said Isobel, "we can turn up the path tothe churchyard, and get on to the cliffs just over the quay. It's ashort cut, and much nicer than the road."
So they crossed the line again by the footbridge, passing the station,where the porter, overcome with the heat, was having a comfortablesnooze on his hand-barrow; then, facing towards the sea, they climbedthe steep track which zigzagged up the face of the cliff to the oldchurch. The door was open, and the children stole inside for a minuteand stood quietly gazing round the nave. It was cool and shady there,with the rich glow from the stained-glass windows falling in checkeredrays of blue and crimson and orange upon the twisted pillars and thecarved oak pews. The choir was practising in the chancel, and as theysang, the sun, slanting through the diamond panes of the south transept,made a very halo of glory round the head of the ancient, time-wornmonument of St. Alcuin, the Saxon abbot, below. Crosier and mitre hadlong ago been chipped away by the ruthless hands of Cromwell's soldiers,but they had spared the face, and the light shone full on the closedeyes and the calm, sleeping mouth. Isobel moved a little nearer, tryingto spell out the half-effaced letters of the inscription. She knew thestory of how the pagan Norsemen had sacked the abbey, and had murderedthe abbot on the steps of the altar, where he had remained alone to praywhen his monks had fled to safety; but the words were in Latin, and shecould not read them.
"For all the saints who from their labours rest," chanted the choirsoftly, the music of their voices mingling strangely with the shouts ofthe children at play which rose up from the beach below.
"He looks as though he were resting," thought Isobel; "not dead--onlyjust sleeping until he was wanted again. I suppose he's one of the'saints in light' now. What a long, long time it is since he lived here!I wonder if he knows they built a church and called it St. Alcuin'safter him."
"Here's the verger coming," whispered Belle, pulling at her hand. "Ithink we'd better go."
"Let us sit down; shall we?" said Isobel, when they were out in theglare of the sunshine once more on the broad flagged path which led fromthe church door to the steps looking down on to the sea.
"Not here, though," replied Belle; "I don't like gravestones--they makeme feel horrid and creepy."
"Under the lich-gate, then," suggested Isobel. "It'll be cooler, forit's in the shade, and there's a seat, too."
"What a simply broiling day!" said Belle, settling herself asluxuriously as possible in the corner, and pulling off her hat to fanher hot face. "I don't like such heat as this; it takes my hair out ofcurl," tenderly twisting one of her flaxen ringlets into its properorthodox droop.
"It's jolly here. We get a little wind, and we can watch everything allround," said Isobel, sitting with her chin in her hands, and gazing overthe water to where the herring fleet was tacking back to the harbour.
The children could scarcely have chosen a sweeter spot to rest. Belowthem lay the sea, a broad flat expanse of blue, getting a little hazygray on the horizon, and with a greenish ripple where it neared therocks, upon which its waves were always dashing with a dull, boomingsound.
The old town, with its red roofs and poppy-filled gardens, made such aspot of brightness against the blue sea that it suggested the brilliantcolouring of a foreign port, all the more so in contrast to the graytower of the church behind and the wind-swept yew trees which hadsomehow managed to survive the winter storms. The grass had been mown inthe churchyard, and filled the air with a fragrant scent of hay; a bigbumble-bee buzzed noisily over a bed of wild thyme under the wall, and aswallow was feeding a row of young ones upon the ridged roof of thesexton's cottage. In the great stretch of blue above, the little fleecyclouds formed themselves into snowy mountains with valleys and lakesbetween, a kind of dream country in purest white, and Isobel wonderedwhether, if one could sail straight on to the very verge of the distancewhere sea and sky seemed to meet, one could slip altogether over theinvisible line that bounds the horizon, and find oneself floating inthat cloudland region.
"It's like the edge of heaven," she thought. "I think the saints mustlive there, and the cherubim and seraphim much farther and higherup--right in the blue part. One could never see _them_; but perhapssometimes on a day like this the saints might come back a little way outof the light and nearer to the earth where they used to live, and if onelooked very hard one might manage to catch a glimpse of them just wherethe sun's shining on that white piece."
"O blest communion! fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle; they in glory shine!"
came wafted through the open church door, the sound of the singing,rather far off and subdued, seeming to join in harmony with the lap ofthe waves, the hum of the bees, the cries of the sea-gulls, thetwittering of the swallows, and all the other glad voices of nature. Itlooked such a beautiful, joyful, delightful, glorious world that Isobelsat very quietly for a time just drinking in the sweet air and thesunshine, and feeling, without exactly knowing why, that it was good tobe there.
"Are you asleep?" said Belle at last, in an injured tone; "you haven'tspoken to me for at least five minutes. I'm sure it must be getting neartea-time. Let us go now."
"All right," said Isobel, recalling herself with a start--she had almostforgotten Belle's existence for the moment. "It's so nice on thesesteps, one feels as if one were up above everything. It's like being onthe roof of the world. Perhaps that was why St. Alcuin and the monksbuilt the abbey here; it seems so very near to the sky."
"What a queer girl you are sometimes!" said Belle, looking at hercuriously; "I believe you're fond of old churches and musty-fustymonuments. Come along. We'll buy some sweets or some pears as we gohome."
It was a change indeed from the cliff top to the bustle and noise of thelittle town below. Most of the fish-stalls were empty in the market, forthe stock of herrings and mackerel had been sold off earlier in the day;but a travelling bazaar was in full swing, and exhibited a bewilderingdisplay of toys, tea-cups, mugs, tin cans, looking-glasses, corkscrews,and many other wonderful and miscellaneous articles, any of which mightbe bought for the sum of one penny. The main street, narrow andtwisting, ran steeply uphill, the high gabled houses crowding each otheras if they were trying to peep over one another's shoulders; from theside alleys came the mingled odours of sea-weed and frying fish, and apersistent peddler hawking brooms shouted himself hoarse in his effortsto sell his wares. Under the wide archway at the corner by the marketstood a tiny fruit-shop, where piles of plums and early apples, bunchesof sweet peas and dahlias, baskets of tomatoes, lettuces, broad beans,cauliflowers, and cabbages, were set forth to tempt customers.
"There are the most delicious-looking pears," said Belle, peepingthrough the small square panes of the window, "and so cheap. I shall goin and get some."
"Yes, love, six for a penny," said the woman, a motherly-looking soul,as Belle entered the shop and inquired the price. "They're fine and ripenow, and won't do you no harm. A pen'orth, did you say?" And picking outsix of the best pears, she put them into a paper bag and handed them toBelle, who, turning to leave the shop, laid down on the counter the coinwhich she had placed that afternoon on the railway line.
The woman did not look at it particularly, but naturally supposing fromthe size that it was a penny, she swept it carelessly into the till.
"Belle! Belle!" whispered Isobel, catching her friend hastily by the armas she went out through the door, "do you know what you've done? Youpaid her your big halfpenny instead of a penny."
"Oh, did I?" said Belle, flushing. "I didn't notice. I never looked atit."
"What a good thing I saw the mistake! Give her a proper penny, and getthe halfpenny back."
Belle fumbled in her pocket in vain.
"I don't believe I have another penny, after all," she said at last. "Ithought I had several. I must have lost them while we were up on thecliffs, I suppose."
"What _are_ we to do?" exclaimed Isobel anxiously. "We can't take thepears when we haven't paid for them properly; it would be stealing."
"I'll bring her another halfpenny to-morrow," suggested Belle.
"But suppose before that she looks at the money and finds out; she'llthink we have been trying to cheat her."
"Perhaps she won't remember who gave it to her."
"Oh! but that wouldn't make it any better," said Isobel. "Look here; letus take back the bag, and tell her we paid the wrong money, and ask herto give us only half the pears."
"Very well," answered Belle. "You go in, will you? I don't like to."
Isobel seized the parcel, and quickly re-entered the shop.
"I'm ever so sorry," she said breathlessly, "but we find we've made sucha dreadful mistake. We meant to give you a penny, and it wasn't a pennyat all--only a halfpenny squashed out flat on the railway line; so,please, will you take back half the pears, because we neither of us havea proper penny in our pockets."
The woman laughed.
"I didn't think to notice what you give me," she said. "But you're anhonest little girl to come and tell me. No, I won't take back none ofthe pears. You're welcome to them, I'm sure."
"It was very nice of her," said Belle sweetly, peeling the juicy fruitslowly with her penknife as they turned away down the street. "So stupidof me to make such a mistake! Have another, darling; they're quitedelicious, though they are so small."
Isobel walked along rather silent and preoccupied. Though she would notallow it to herself, down at the bottom of her heart there was theuncomfortable suspicion that Belle had known all the time, and had meantto give the wrong coin.
"She _couldn't_!" thought Isobel. "She _must_ have made a mistake, andthought she really had a penny in her pocket. Yet at the level crossingshe certainly said the halfpenny was all she had until she got herweekly money to-morrow. Perhaps she forgot. Oh dear! I know she didn'tmean to cheat or tell stories--I'm sure she wouldn't for the world--butsomehow I _wish_ it hadn't happened."