With a cry of vexation she scrambled over the rocks towards it; at least she would try and save the basket, though the other things were lost; it was one Mother had given her, and she was very fond of it. But no, she could not reach it. Sometimes the waves brought it back almost to her feet, but before she could seize it, it sailed merrily away further than ever. After many vain efforts she stood looking hopelessly at it much cast down and disappointed. Not only had she lost her collection, the labours of nearly an hour, but now even if she made another she had nothing to carry it home in. Sophia Jane, who had watched her failures with chuckles of delight, now came and stood by her with her skipping-rope in her hand.
“I can get it,” she said.
Susan looked round in surprise; this was kind of Sophia Jane after she had said so many cross things to her.
“If I get it,” she went on, tying a sort of noose at the end of the rope, “will you give it me for my own?”
Susan hesitated. She did not want to lose the basket, and yet it would be almost the same thing to give it to Sophia Jane. Meanwhile it came again nearly within reach of her outstretched fingers, just escaped them, and was borne away by the waves. Sophia Jane stood waiting her answer.
“You may have it,” said Susan, for she could not bear to see the basket lost for ever.
Then Sophia Jane watched her opportunity, cast the rope over it just at the right instant, caught it in the noose, and drew it safely on to the rock.
“Now it’s mine!” she cried exultingly, holding up her dripping prize, “and I shall take the enemy home in it.”
What an unpleasant little girl Sophia Jane was! Susan felt at that moment that she almost hated her; she was selfish, and mean, and cruel and unkind, and deserved all the scoldings she had from everyone. She could not bear to be near her just now; she would go as far from her as she possibly could. Leaving her, therefore, crouched on the rock near her prey, Susan turned her back upon her and started off by herself in another direction, and in doing this she also turned her back upon the pier. She was so injured in her mind, however, and so occupied with hard thoughts about Sophia Jane, that she could not notice this or anything else for some time. On she went, jumping from rock to rock with Grace tucked under one arm, pausing now and then to look at some strange and beautiful thing which lay in her path; how she wished for her basket, that she might pick some of them up! But at least she could take a few in her pocket, though it was inconveniently small. Soon it was heavy with damp stones, sea-weed, and shells, then she lifted the skirt of her frock in front and filled that, and all this while she was going further from Sophia Jane, further from the pier, further from the little cove, where they had promised to wait for Buskin. She never once looked back, however, for there were always lovely things still further in the distance that she must get. When she was close to these lovely things they sometimes turned out to be quite common and not worth picking up; but there was sure to be something more tempting just a little way beyond. So she went on and on, and would have gone much further but her progress was suddenly checked in a very disagreeable manner; for, springing too heedlessly on to a slippery rock, and overbalanced by her burden, she fell straightway into a large shallow pool of water. It was such a sudden shock that all her treasures were scattered far and wide, and poor Grace was thrown out of her arms to some distance where she lay flat on her face. Confused and startled, Susan’s first thought was that she should be drowned, and she cried out for help; but, having winked the water out of her eyes, she at once saw that it was quite a shallow pool, scrambled quickly out and stood on the rock. Then she looked down at herself with dismay; for, though there was not enough water to drown her, it had wetted her from top to toe, and she was a forlorn object indeed—her clothes hung to her dripping, her straw-hat floated in the pool, and she had cut her chin in falling against a sharp stone. The only thing to be done now was to get back to Sophia Jane as fast as possible, and she also remembered for the first time that Buskin must be waiting; so, shivering a good deal and feeling very wretched, she fished out her hat, picked up Grace who was the only dry piece of property she now possessed, and prepared to return. But lo! when she looked round, the whole place seemed to have changed! There was no Sophia Jane to be seen, no pier, nothing but high white cliffs, and rocks, and sea. Sophia Jane must be hiding, and Susan felt too miserable now to stand on her dignity, so she called her as loud as she could, several times.
No answer. No one to be seen. And where was the pier? How could that have gone away? Confused, and still giddy with her tumble, Susan hardly knew what she was doing, but her one idea was that she must find the pier, and if it was not in this direction it must be in the other. So she turned again, and went on the wrong way. Now, it was only hidden from her by the projecting cliffs which formed the little bay into which she had wandered, and at that very minute Buskin and Sophia Jane were not really far away. But they could not see or hear her, and now she was going further from them as quickly as she could.