Both Pam and Hughie excused themselves from this expedition. The day promised to be unusually hot and breathless, and Pamela, knowing exactly what it would be like, preferred a bathe and a book. Hughie wanted to test the new sails to his model boat.
This division of forces was so often practised that Mrs. Romilly took no notice. She was sure that the two elders could manage the yawl--and for the rest, a day in which there seemed to be neither wind nor waves, was very satisfying to her mind. Pamela liked being alone--she and Hughie spent hours in the cove contented and harmless. All would be well.
The morning wore on in peace, and about midday the voyagers went down, basket-laden, and very happy.
"It will be thunder," prophesied Pam, who was sitting on a low rock, with her back against another, learning certain enthralling rules by heart from a certain book, "it will be quite calm and oily, and presently you'll have a cracking storm. I feel it in my head. Glad I'm not going. Crow, do you remember the day when we couldn't get anywhere, and we threw the slices of beef overboard and they went with us for miles--sort of cheek by jowl, sitting on the sea."
"That was before the War," said Crow, evading the thought, "one doesn't have slices of meat now, of anything, thank goodness. Beef and ham pies would sink."
"Not before we've eaten them," put in Adrian calmly, "come along, Crow. I say, Pam--supposing we don't get to Peterock, but go to somewhere down coast beyond Ramsworthy, do you mind suggesting to Mother that we are playing on the sands at Netheroot or Tamerton? Either would do, 'fraid there'll be no wind for Salterne."
"Can you get your hair cut at Netheroot?" asked Pamela.
"No, don't suppose so; why?"
"Only because Mother likes to picture you on shore most of the time, when you go sailing, I mean--it's so nice and dry; and the sea is wet as wet can be! If there is a thunderstorm you'll go ashore, shan't you?"
"Like a shot," declared Adrian, as he pushed against the rocky landing platform, and drove the dinghy dancing over the breaking ripples.