They followed the coast-line, making their way in and out among the rocks. From the interstices of the tall cliffs as they approached flew out hundreds of wild sea-gulls uttering shrill cries of alarm. Armitage picked up a stone, but Grace stayed his arm.
"It's bad luck to kill one," she said. "Let them live. Besides, they're our neighbors. They're the only other inhabitants besides ourselves."
The tide was out, so their way along the smooth sands was easy. The beach was covered with shells of remarkable luster and beauty, and Grace insisted on stopping to gather some. Presently they came to a creek, with stepping-stones covered with slippery moss. The problem was how to get across.
"Come along," said Armitage, leading the way.
"I'm afraid I'll fall into the water," exclaimed Grace, looking ruefully at the water.
"No, you won't. Take my arm," said Armitage.
They went across together, her arm closely locked in his.
Suddenly she slipped. If she had not been holding tight to his arm, she would have fallen into the creek. As it was, she was badly frightened, and clung more nervously to him. He felt her warm body pressed close against his, and a thrill went through him. There was still some distance to go before the opposite bank was reached. Putting his arm round her waist, Armitage reassured her.
"You won't fall. Just keep close to me and step as I step," he said.
He felt her warm breath on his cheek. His head seemed to swim round. It needed all his self-control to keep his equilibrium and get across. Finally they reached the other bank in safety.