Left behind, Mavis and Merle felt their first and most obvious duty was to make friends with the boy who was to act as their guide back to Chagmouth. Beyond the fact that his name was Bevis they knew absolutely nothing about him. They wondered whether he belonged to Grimbal's Farm, or was merely a visitor there. His dark, alert face and his speech and general bearing marked him as utterly different from homely Mr. and Mrs. Penruddock. Merle, calling up a mental vision of the stout, ruddy-haired woman who had charge of the surgery, and the slow, heavy-featured farmer whom she had seen in the stackyard, decided hastily, "They can't be his father and mother!" Whoever he might be he was a handsome boy, with a look of natural distinction about him, that "stamp of the gods", which is the hall-mark of a noble mind, quite irrespective of the accident of birth. His dark hair had a crisp curl in it, and his mouth held beautiful curves when he smiled. Merle, who had lately taken several violent prejudices, in this instance decided hotly in his favour. Merle never liked people by halves. All her world consisted of foes or chums. Bevis, who had readily accepted the office of guide, seemed doing his best to make himself agreeable. He led the way along a path across some fields and on to the headland that skirted the sea. There was a track here among the gorse and dead bracken, so faint indeed that the girls would not have found it for themselves, though Bevis walked along confidently. Below them lay the sea, and great jagged rocks, round which crowds of gulls were whirling and calling, and here and there flew a cormorant, like a black sheep among the white flock, diving occasionally under the waves in quest of fish. There could hardly be a pleasanter companion than Bevis. He knew the names of all the birds, and could tell where he had found their nests. He pointed out two distant black specks, that to the girls might have been anything, but which he assured them represented a pair of choughs that built every year on the cliffs. "We tried to get some eggs," he explained, "but the nest was in such an awkward place, we couldn't reach it even with a rope." "Do you mean to tell me you'd let yourself dangle over the edge there to collect eggs?" asked Mavis. "Don't you turn dizzy?" "Not a bit. As long as I know the rope isn't frayed, I'm all right. There's something rather jolly about hanging in mid-air. I feel like a bird myself. I once got a hooded crow's egg from that cliff over there. I gave it to our school museum." "Do you go to school near here?" asked Merle, hoping to draw some information. But Bevis shook his head. "I've left now," he said briefly, and changed the subject.