They found themselves in a vast vaulted place, from the roof of which there was a continual dripping sound. Dark as the rock was, bright patches of colour shone out here and there, almost like splashes of gaudy paint. Lighting a bit of candle he had in his pocket, Jack showed Estelle that they were not little dried cherries and green olives, as one might suppose, but sea-anemones.
Sea-anemones? Where had she heard of them before? Somebody wanted her to have some? But who?
'Come this way, Missie,' said Jack, interrupting her confused thoughts. 'Take care how you tread. It's slippery, I can tell you.'
Indeed it was, and very careful steering was necessary. The little girl clung nervously to her companion's hand, as they made their way through wet sand, over rocks covered with green seaweed and slime, and gravel lying under a thin stream of water. Jack appeared to be quite indifferent to all these inconveniences. Careful to lift Estelle over the worst places, he was utterly regardless of his own dripping condition.
At the further end they entered a smaller cave, quite dry, except for a little rivulet gurgling through it. So clean and white was the sand, so sweet and fresh the air from the great hole in the roof, whence the light came streaming in, that Estelle danced about in the merry fashion of her days at the Moat House. Jack watched her, smiling, and when she sat down quite tired, he dropped on the sand beside her, and told her of the great storms that drove the mighty waves into these caverns, and of the strange things they carried in with them—how ships were wrecked on the cruel rocks, and how he had once sheltered ten or twelve persons in this very cave, and others in the Hospice de la Providence, till the storm went down.
'Are these caves called——?' asked Estelle.
'The Treasure Caves. They are almost forgotten now, because the sea is so rough in these parts that folk seldom venture here. The tide, too, comes up quickly, and might cut them off, particularly if they don't know their way about. At full tide you could not see the entrance to that outer cave—the one we came into first—for it is below water.'
Estelle looked up in an alarmed manner, but he told her he was well acquainted with rocks and tides and currents, and would not be the one to run her into any risks.
'But, Jack,' said Estelle, gazing wonderingly at him, 'don't these great dark rocks and caves make you feel frightened and lonely sometimes, and perhaps unhappy too?'
'Why should they, Missie? I am used to the sea, and so is Mother. I don't think we could bear to be out of the sound of it.'