He said gently, 'No, Barnabas, I didn't find it this time.' He said softly, conversationally, 'Is it buried under the Grey House, Barnabas, or one of the standing stones?' 'Oh really,' said Jane, who was beginning to feel a little foolish. 'What's the matter?' It goes very low today, he said ... spring tide ... right round the rocks ...' 'You can walk right round the rocks,' Simon said. People glanced down at him and smiled as he passed, and Barney, giddy with the music and the speed and the twisting black limbs of the cat before his eyes, flung himself laughing round where it swung him ... ... Until he came up with a sudden halt against the long white robes of a figure dressed as an Arab sheikh, moving with the rest so that the robes were swung wide and billowing by the breeze. He held the grail tighter to him in the darkness, his heart thumping.
We were jolly glad to see you getting out of the car,' he added unexpectedly. 'Gumerry, they're coming after us!' All right?' You can see the rock clearly enough, but you have to shift your eyes slightly to be looking straight at it. The boy Bill had not turned the corner yet; Simon could hear his steps gradually growing louder from the main road. 'Ah, there you are,' he said casually, looking down at them from beneath his bristling white eyebrows with a slight smile. The door closed again. The robe fell loose from his mouth.
His shadow on the ground before him moved a long arm, dapple-edged by the grass, as he pointed. If only you hadn't stopped me I could have grabbed her.'
'It's terribly ancient.'
Barney and Jane raised their heads too, slowly and cautiously. You haven't really got a museum, I don't believe all the things you said.' 'There's a tiny gap here.' 'When Miss Withers came the other night she was asking questions about the Grey House, and whether we'd found anything.' said Barney in scorn. Then the pressure of the hand over his mouth relaxed a little through the cotton folds, and the voice said softly, close to his ear, 'Don't make a noise, Barnabas, and don't move, and nobody will be hurt.' Shut the door.' Taking firm hold of it he gave two slow steady pulls on the direction from which they had come. Jane felt a shiver of alarm return. 'Oh well,' Jane said doubtfully, 'I suppose you're right. 'And when I went to find him,' Jane said slowly, trying to remember, 'I didn't ask anyone where he lived, I just said to an old man by the church, is that the vicarage, and all he said was yes ... he was a rather bad-tempered old man, I think ... And do you know, Gumerry, I don't think Mr Hastings actually told me he was the vicar, I just took it for granted when he said something about his replacing Mr Hawes-Mellor there. 'I do hope nothing's happened to him,' said Jane anxiously.
Simon's going to need help.' It was like reading the story of somebody's life, Jane thought, as she gazed at the tiny matchstick masts of the ship sailing motionless for ever in the green glass bottle. 'Yes.' Barney said indignantly. 'I found it.' 'Oh yes,' said Simon. And where's Mrs Palk? ' But Great-Uncle Merry, who could become very deaf when he chose not to answer a question, only roared on along the road that curved up the hill, high over the other side of the harbour, and suddenly stopped. We might find anything up here.' He began to wonder whether he had been seeing everything in the wrong light. 'Gosh!' Their own familiar manuscript stood up from the lower half, fitting it closely. 'Of course it is,' Jane said. 'This isn't a game, it's extremely serious. Again he turned automatically without time to think where he was going, and the rubber soles of his plimsolls pattered softly along the deserted road. 'Well then, he can't have come down from the headland yet.' 'I am engaged in the beginnings of what promises to be a long and heated discussion with Miss Hatherton and your mother over the relative merits of Caravaggio and Salvator Rosa.' 'She knows her own mind. Jane screwed up her forehead to remember. 'The Golden Hind.' With perhaps a little fishing. For a small place, Trewissick seemed to be an extraordinary endless maze of winding little roads. 'The match can. Anyway, don't you see, we shouldn't have a chance to work it out ourselves then.
And then Great-Uncle Merry followed them into her mind. 'Moonshine,' said Great-Uncle Merry firmly. Polly, for goodness' sake go and change into some normal clothes. Jane peered round the darkest end of the landing, beside her brothers' door. 'Why do they all call you sir? '
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