He went more quietly than I should have imagined was possible in that cleft of shifting stones. Bending low, so that his head should not show above the edge, in case his mother glanced upwards, he crept down, and gained the beach unseen.
Mrs. McNab heard nothing. She had turned away, and was standing still, looking out to sea—doubtless seeking inspiration from the softly rippling water. I wondered would she come back presently, back to the Tower room, to write through the night; or would dawn find her still pacing by the sea. Nothing, I thought, would surprise me about my eccentric employer.
And yet, she was to surprise me—and not me alone—very much indeed.
Jack came out of the protecting gloom and stole noiselessly across the sand until he was only a dozen yards from the still figure. Then he suddenly gave a long eldritch shriek—it made even Judy jump—danced impishly for a moment, flinging about his arms and legs, and fled towards the hummocks.
Quick as he was, his mother was quicker. At his wild cry she swung round, her cigarette dropping from her fingers. She stood as if petrified for a moment. Then she gave chase. Her long legs carried her across the sand with amazing swiftness. Just as the boy gained the edge of the gully her hand fell on his shoulder and held him fast.
“You would dare to spy on me!” I heard her say, in a choked voice.
She reversed Jack with a swift movement, and then, as if he were a tiny child, she spanked him thoroughly. Jack was a strong boy and a sturdy one, and he did not take the proceeding meekly. He kicked and fought and struggled; but the grip in which he was held never slackened, and the avenging hand rose and fell with a regularity astonishing to behold. Never had I beheld a more competent spanker than Mrs. McNab. I had no special sympathy in general with Jack, but I almost ached for him.
Her arm must have been tired when the resounding blows ceased and she pitched him contemptuously on the sand. Then, without waiting to read the lecture that usually accompanies a punishment, she plunged swiftly up the gully. It is possible that she thought so thorough a spanking spoke for itself: possible, also, that she had no breath left. In any case, she did not speak. She went swiftly past me, her face lowering and angry, and her swift steps died away across the grass.
Judy had crouched low under a bush while her mother passed her. Once the avenging figure was out of sight, she sped downwards to her brother.
“My word, you caught it! I’ll bet it hurt!”