"So I've heard," Salome responded.
Silas Moyle nodded kindly, and took himself off, whilst Salome locked up the cottage and joined her father on the beach. She told him the baker had been pleased to receive the half-crown, and then tactfully changed the subject. Josiah and his daughter were always excellent friends when the former had not been drinking.
"Look!" Salome exclaimed suddenly, "There's Master Gerald. Why, he seems to be alone. He sees us."
The child came running towards them, laughing as he stumbled over the rough shingles, his face aglow with excitement, his broad-brimmed sailor's hat at the back of his head, revealing the fair curls which clustered thickly around his brow.
"I've run away," he cried merrily. "I wanted Miss Conway to bring me down to the beach, but she would not—the disagreeable thing! She said it was too hot, and I must stay in the garden. So I came by myself."
"Doesn't Miss Conway know where you are?" Salome inquired.
"No one knows," he replied proudly. "I can take care of myself."
"I'm not so sure of that, young gentleman," Josiah remarked, with a chuckle of amusement at Gerald's air of importance.
"It was naughty of you to run away," Salome told him in a tone of reproof.
The child made a grimace at her, and ran off towards some rocks which the receding tide had left uncovered.