"This is the shell-bank. You'll find heaps of them here!" he said. Undoubtedly he had brought them to the right place. There were shells in abundance, and of many different kinds, delicate pink ones, tiny cowries, twisted wentletraps, scallops, screw-shells, and some like mother-of- pearl. Mrs. Tremayne was in raptures, and went down on her knees to gather them. There was such a tempting variety that it was difficult to stop, and in the excitement of the quest the time simply fled. "I haven't brought my watch!" declared Mrs. Tremayne once. "Oh, it's quite early yet!" Bevis assured her. "I've lighted the spirit- lamp, and I'm going to make you some tea." He had carried the hamper on to the sands, and was busy setting out his cups and saucers in a sheltered place behind some rocks, 'to be out of the wind,' as he carefully explained. When his kettle boiled he filled the tea-pot, and summoned his guests. "You've chosen a snug spot!" said Mrs. Tremayne, walking along with her eyes on the sands still looking for shells. And Merle, who was watching a white line of advancing waves, added: "Lovely and snug, only I hope we shan't get--" She meant to say 'surrounded,' but Bevis pulled such a fearful face at her behind Cousin Nora's back that she stopped short and let him finish the sentence. "We shan't get shells while we're having tea, of course! You can look for some more afterwards if you haven't enough." "Oh, surely, we have heaps and heaps! And simply exquisite ones! These tiny yellow babies are just perfect. I like them better than the big grandfathers," exulted Mavis. Bevis made a polite but leisurely host. He insisted on boiling some more water, which was not really wanted, but which took a long time, and he spun out his own tea interminably. "It's so jolly here under the rocks!" he declared. "I like the _dolce far niente_--makes one think of lotus-eaters and all the rest of it. Shall I help you sort your shells? You could wash them in the tea-cups. It's no use carrying home surplus sand. There's some water left in the kettle." On one pretext or another he kept them dawdling under the rocks, till Mrs. Tremayne at last rose up and declared they really must be starting back for the cove. "We shall be having the tide coming in if we don't mind," she said. "Why! Look!" She might well exclaim, for while they had been sitting with their backs to the sea the water had all the while been lapping slowly in and had changed their peninsula into an island. They were entirely surrounded, and quite a wide channel lay between themselves and the shore. Mrs. Tremayne looked much alarmed, but Bevis took the matter with the utmost calm. "It's all right! I've the dinghy here, and I can row you to the yacht. I'd land you in the cove if I could, but it really wouldn't be safe because of the rocks. I'll sail you all back to Chagmouth and run you into the harbour."