"Oh, all right," said the boy. "What frightened you? Did you think I was a scamp?" "I wasn't frightened," said Helen. "Don't tell me," mocked the boy. "You couldn't get a word out." "I wasn't frightened." "You thought I was a bad lot. You don't know I'm not one now." Helen's eyes filled with tears. She turned away quickly. "I'll get you your bread," she said. "You are a silly, aren't you?" said the boy as she disappeared. Before long she came back with half a loaf in one hand, and something in the other which she kept behind her back. "Thanks," said the boy, taking the bit of loaf. "What else have you got there?" "It's something better than bread," said Helen slowly. "Well, let's have a look at it." She took her hand from behind her, and offered him seven ears of wheat. They were heavy with grain, and bowed on their ripe stems. "Is this what you call better than bread?" he asked. "It is better." "Oh, all right. I sha'n't eat it though--not all at once." "No," said Helen, "keep it till you're hungry. The grains go quite a long way when you're hungry." "I'll eat one a year," said the boy, "and then they'll go so far they'll outlast me my lifetime." "Yes," said Helen, "but the bread will be gone in forty minutes. And then you'll be where you can get meat." "You funny thing," said the boy, puzzled because she never smiled. "Where can you get meat?" she asked. "In a boat, fishing for rabbits." But she took no notice of the rabbits. She said eagerly, "A boat? are you going in a boat?" "Yes." "Are you a sailor?" "You've hit it." "You've seen the sea! you've been on the sea!--sailors do that..." "Oh, dear no," said the boy, "we sail three times round the duckpond and come home for tea." Helen hung her head. The boy put his hand up to his mouth and watched her over it. "Well," he said presently, "I must get along to Pagham." He stuck the little sheaf of wheat through the hole in his cap, and it bobbed like a ruddy-gold plume over his ear. Then he felt in his pocket and after some fumbling got hold of what he wanted and pulled it out. "Here you are, child," he said, "and thank you again." He put his present into her hand and swung off whistling. He turned once to wave to her, and the corn in his cap nodded with its weight and his light gait. She stood gazing till he was out of sight, and then she looked at what he had given her. It was a shell.