“Stare at her,” said Mark. “That’s what Jack does, like a donk at a thistle when he can’t eat any more.” “Does Frances like the staring?” “She pretends she doesn’t, but she does. You stare at her, and act stupid.” “Is Jack stupid?” “When he’s at our house,” said Mark. “He’s as stupid as an owl. Now she kisses you, and you just whisper and squeeze her hand, and say it’s very tiny. You don’t know how conceited she is about her hand--can’t you see--she’s always got it somewhere where you can see it; and she sticks her foot out so,” (Mark put one foot out); “and don’t you move an inch, but stick close to her, and get her into a corner or in the arbour. Mind, though, if you don’t keep on telling her how pretty she is, she’ll box your ears. That’s why she hates me--” “Because you don’t tell her she’s pretty. But she is pretty.” “But I’m not going to be always telling her so--I don’t see that she’s anything very beautiful either--you and I should look nice if we were all the afternoon doing our hair, and if we walked like that and stuck our noses up in the air; and kept grinning, and smacked ourselves with powder, and scent, and all such beastly stuff. Now Jack’s rifle--” “We could make it shoot,” said Bevis, “if we had it all to ourselves, and put bullets through apples stuck up on a stick, or smash an egg--” “And knock over the parrots up in these trees.” “I _will_ have a gun,” said Bevis, kicking a stone with all his might. “Are you sure Frances could get Jack--” “Frances get Jack to do it! Why, I’ve seen him kiss her foot.” They got on board laughing and set the sails, but as the island kept the wind off, Mark had to row till they were beyond the cliff. Then the sails filled and away they went. “Thessaly,” said Mark presently. “See! we’re getting to places where people live again. I say, shall we try the anchor?” “Yes. Let down the mainsail first.” Mark let it down, and then put the anchor over. It sank rapidly, drawing the cable after it. The flat stone in the shaft endeavoured as it sank to lie flat on the bottom, and this brought one of the flukes or points against the ground, and the motion of the boat dragging at it caused it to stick in a few inches. The cable tightened, and the boat brought up and swung with her stem to the wind. Mark found that they did not want all the cable; he hauled it in till there was only about ten feet out; so that, allowing for the angle, the water was not much more than five or six feet deep. They were off the muddy shore, lined with weeds. Rude as the anchor was, it answered perfectly. In a minute or two they hauled it up, set the mainsail, and sailed almost to the harbour, having to row the last few yards because the trees kept much of the breeze off. They unshipped the mast, and carried it and the sails home.