Then he looked down at the steep slope to the shore, and he could now see why the bank of broken stone was so small, for the waves must have been beating upon it perhaps for a couple of hundred years, sweeping the fragments away, to drive them on along the coast, rolling them over and over till they were ground together or against the rocks and made into the rounded pebbles that strewed the shore.
“That will do,” said Mr Temple at last; and as the others descended, he signed to Will to stop, and as soon as they were alone he held out half a crown to him.
“You did that very well, my lad,” he said. “You have often taken out hooks before?”
“Dozens of times, sir,” said Will quietly, and without offering to take the half-crown. “I don’t want paying for doing such a thing as that, sir.”
“Just as you like, my lad,” said Mr Temple, looking at him curiously. “Go on down.”
Will began descending the path, and as soon as his head had disappeared Mr Temple picked up a scrap or two more of the stone, examined them carefully, and then, selecting one special piece, he placed it in his pocket and followed Will.
There was plenty to interest them as they embarked once more, to find that the tide had risen so much that the boat was rowed over rocks that had previously been out of water.
Then on they went, along by the rugged cliffs, Josh keeping them at a sufficient distance from the rocks for them to be in smooth water, while only some twenty or thirty yards away the tide was beating and foaming amongst the great masses of stone, making whirlpools and eddies, swishing up the tangled bladder-wrack and long-fronded sea-weed, and then pouncing upon it and tearing it back, to once more throw it up again.
“Bad place for a ship to go ashore, eh?” said Mr Temple to Josh.
“Bad place, sir? Ay! There was a big three-master did go on the rocks just about here three years ago, and the next morning there was nothing but matchwood and timber torn into rags. Sea’s wonderful strong when she’s in a rage.”