The next morning Mrs. Merton and Agnes rose early, and, as usual, walked out before breakfast. Almost the first thing they saw was the young man who had attracted their attention the preceding evening; and who, with his gun in his hand, and followed by Neptune, was sauntering over the cliffs. Almost as soon as they saw him, the young man fired his gun; and instantly a thousand birds rose from hidden places in the cliffs, screaming and flapping their wings in such a fearful manner that Agnes was quite terrified, and clung close to her mother’s side, as if for protection. The young man was evidently pleased with the effect he had produced; and, calling Neptune, he threw a stone for him to fetch out of the sea. Neptune did not now refuse; for, as his instinct told him there was no longer any danger of his being dashed against the rocks, he gladly indulged his natural fondness for the water, and sprang into the waves after the stone; though, of course, it had sunk too deep for him to reach it. The young man then threw in a piece of stick, which Neptune brought out in triumph: and his master, sauntering away over the cliffs, again fired off his gun; at which the sea-birds again rose, but, this time, with a wild scream which seemed like fiendish laughter. Neptune had just plunged in again, after something his master had thrown for him, when a young fisherman came up to Mrs. Merton, and asked her if she would not give the young lady a sail. Mrs. Merton, remembering that she had heard it was a beautiful sail from Freshwater to Alum Bay, hesitated: she wished to show her little daughter as much as possible of the beauties of the island; and she recollected that Mr. Merton could easily go round in a carriage, if he thought the boat would be too fatiguing. “Oh! do go, mamma,” cried Agnes; “I should so like to see the caverns.” Mrs. Merton was well aware that the caverns could only be seen to advantage from the sea; and, as she was never so happy as when gratifying the wishes of her darling, she was half inclined to engage with the man; but she did not like to do so till she had consulted Mr. Merton: she therefore told the man she would consider of it; and was just turning away, when the gruff voice of the old fisherman sounded in her ear, bidding her beware, for there would be a storm before night. “If you had set out by day-break,” said he, “it would have been a different thing; but now you will never be able to get near enough the shore to see anything without running on the rocks.” “Why, now, father!” cried the young man, “did ever any body hear the like? there’s mother waiting for us at Black Gang Chine; and here’s a lady that would have paid for the boat half-way, if it had not been for you.” “Nonsense, lad,” said the father; “mother had rather we had staid away, than went in such weather as this: she’ll not expect us; she’s been a fisherman’s wife too long not to know when a storm’s coming on.”