I’d never heard his voice so commanding, even in plays. He still had on the cocked hat, and it looked very strange indeed. We scattered as he ordered, and when the others had gone, I remembered that Greg had on slippery-soled shoes instead of sneakers, which we usually wear. I thought of calling after him to be careful, but he never was a falling-down sort of person, even as a baby. I hoped, too, that he would have sense enough to loop up that sash or take it off entirely.
I sat on the Wecanicut side and stared at the shore and the water till my eyes ached. More and more wind was blowing all the time, straight from Wecanicut. It blew so hard in my face that my eyes watered and I couldn’t be sure whether or not I did see boats. In books, people think of all their past sins when they’re in perilous positions, but all I could think of was that a boat must come before dark. I did think of how much it all was my fault, but that was not far enough in the past to count. Presently Jerry came back and said that if we moved a little toward each other we could see just as much of the bay and consult at the same time. So we did, and sat down not very far apart. I said that I supposed we ought to change off with Greg, because it was horrid lonely up there, but Jerry said:
“Nonsense; he likes to be alone. He’s probably pretending he’s the King of the Cannibal Isle, or something, and not worrying a bit.”
“I was looking us up in the dictionary the other day,” I said, trying to forget the Sea Monster for a minute, “and Gregory means ‘watchful, vigilant’.”
“Now’s the first time he’s ever lived up to his name, then,” said Jerry. “Keep looking, Chris, and don’t moon about.”
We sat there for quite a long time without saying anything, and the last little golden sliver of sun disappeared behind the point, and the lighthouse on the Headland came out suddenly, though it was still quite light, and began to wink—two long flashes and two short ones.
“Isn’t it queer,” Jerry said, “to think that people are there and we can’t possibly tell them.”
“It’s worse than queer,” I said.
Then we were still again, till presently Jerry said:
“Do you hear that funny noise, Chris?”