No one could leave the edge of the sea, however, till they actually came in front of the spot they were seeking. Then they all turned landwards, and soon had traversed the strip of even clear sand which brought them up under the rocks.
The Elliots had been here twice before, and had very little difficulty in finding the opening to the caves. They all halted then, and several produced small wax candles, which they proceeded to light.
Little Mary was delighted, and begged to hold one; and George gave his up to her good-humouredly, saying, "Mind you don't singe your curls, Polly."
Wilmot led the way, and the rest followed. There was no danger in the caves, as the sea washed in to the furthest point of them every day, and they had nothing worse to walk on than a bed of exquisite sand.
They wandered about, admiring the roof and laughing at the grotesque shapes which their shadows made upon it and the rocky sides; and then George proposed to dance a hornpipe, and they should see how that looked. They were very merry over this, but as the candles began to burn rather low, they all got up to proceed homewards once more. Suddenly a cry from the younger ones in front, who were climbing along the ledges of the rock, startled them, and Wilmot and Hope hurried forward, quickly followed by the rest.
On the ground sat Alice, who was next in age to George, holding her foot, and in the half-light looking ghastly pale.
"What is it?" asked Hope, kneeling down by her, and rapidly beginning to unlace her boot.
"Oh, don't!" she shrieked. "I cannot bear it. Oh, what have I done?"
"It is a sprain, I expect," said Hope; "but do, Alice dear, let me get off your boot."
Alice let go her clinging fingers, and once more Hope tried to undo the fastenings with gentle touch.