'I suppose they are facing the sea. We must make our way round over the stones at the edge of the water if we want to see them. It isn't deep, though it looks so dark. You needn't be afraid,' said Neville, beginning the scramble.
But Kathleen hung back.
'Neville,' she said, 'you're quite sure there aren't any smugglers now?'
'Of course not,' said Neville, rather disdainfully. 'Kathie, you shouldn't be so boasting about never being frightened, and all that, if you are really so babyish.'
'I'm not babyish. Neville, you're very unkind. You never were so unkind in London,' said Kathie, looking ready to cry.
'I don't mean to be unkind,' said Neville, stopping short in his progress, one foot on a big stone, the other still on the grass near the edge of the water. 'But if you're the least afraid, Kathie, either of smugglers or of the scramble—it will be a scramble, I see—you'd better not come. Supposing you go up to that little cottage—there's quite a nice old woman living there—while I go on to the caves? I'll come back for you in ten minutes or so.'
'Very well,' said Kathie; 'I think I'd better, perhaps. It isn't for the smugglers, Neville. I wouldn't let you go if there was any chance of there being any. But I'm rather afraid of tumbling. Are you sure it's safe for you, Neville?'
'Oh, yes. Aunty told me I might go any day. She explained all about it to me.'
'Well, then, don't be long;' and so saying, Kathleen began making her way up the slope to the little cottage Neville had pointed out.