“Oh, young Hands fell down on the sands,” he cried, bursting into uncontrollable laughter at the absurdity of the rhyme. Then he found razor-shells and waved his arms triumphantly. He found, too, wine-stained shells and rosy shells and great purple mussels. He and Hands took off their shoes and stockings and ran through the limpid water that sparkled with gold and tempted them to wade for ever ankle deep. They reached a broken mass of rock which would obviously be surrounded by water at high tide; they clambered up to the summit and found there grass and rabbits’ holes. “It’s a real island,” said Michael. “It is! I say, Hands, this is our island. We discovered it. Bags I, we keep it.” “Don’t let’s get caught by the tide,” suggested cautious Hands. “All right, you funk,” jeered Michael. They came back to the level sands and wandered on towards the black point of cliff bounding the immediate view. “I say, there’s a cave. I bet you there’s a cave,” Michael called to his companion who was examining a dead fish. “Wait a jiffy,” shouted Hands; but Michael hurried on to the cave. He wanted to be the first to enter under its jagged arch. Already he could see the silver sand shimmering upon the threshold of the inner darkness. He walked in, awed by the secrecy of this sea-cavern, almost expectant of a mermaid or octopus in the deepest cranny. Suddenly he stopped. His heart beat furiously: his head swam: his legs quivered under him. Then he turned and ran towards the light. “Good lummy!” said Hands, when Michael came up to him. “Whatever’s the matter? You’re simply frightfully white.” “Come away,” said Michael. “I saw something beastly.” “What was it?” “There’s a man in there and a woman. Oh, it was beastly.” Michael dragged Hands by the arm, but not before they had left the cave far behind would he speak. “What was it really?” asked Hands, when they stood at the bottom of the cliff. “I couldn’t possibly tell anybody ever,” said Michael. “You’re making it up,” scoffed Hands. “No, I’m not,” said Michael. “Look here, don’t say anything to the others about that cave. Promise.” Hands promised silence; and he and Michael soon discovered a pathway up the cliff. When they reached the garden, it was a deeper green than ever in the falling twilight, and they did not care to linger far from the house. It was a relief to hear voices and to see Rutherford, Hargreaves and Jubb still eating plums. Presently they played games on a lawn with Mr. Vernon and Mr. Lodge, and soon, after reading sleepily for a while in the tumble-down room which was set apart for the boys’ use, Michael and Hands went to bed and, after an exciting encounter with a bat, fell asleep.