"But I can't see you."

"Look about you. You cannot expect to see without looking."

"Are you in that clump of bushes?"

"Go and see."

"It is too high up."

There was a slight movement on her right and a boy appeared. He was small and looked about six years old; his bright dark eyes glowed in his olive-skinned face and he wore a wreath of seaweed round his head. He had an air of extreme arrogance.

"You are not a pisky, are you?" asked Melisande.

He said with the utmost dignity: "No. I am Raoul de la Roche, at your service, Mademoiselle."

"I am glad of that. I need your service. I should be glad if you could show me an easy way down."

"I know a good way down. I discovered it. I will take you if you like."

"That is kind of you."

"Come this way."

It was difficult to believe he could be as young as he looked. He had such an air of seriousness. He noticed her eyes on the seaweed and took it off.

"It was a disguise," he said. "I was hiding in my cave there, and I wore it to frighten people ... if they should come. I did not wish them to come. I have been watching you. You did look scared. Only I can climb up here."

She was amused by his emphasis on the personal pronoun; it conveyed a certain contempt for the rest of the world and a great respect for Monsieur Raoul de la Roche.

"Do you live here?" she asked.

He led the way, answering: "We are staying here for my health, Leon and I. My health is not good, they say. Are you here for your health?"

"No. I am here as a companion, which means ..."

"I know," he said quickly. "Leon is my companion."

"Oh, but you see, I'm a paid companion."

"So is Leon, and he's my uncle too. Fm called old-fashioned. I make people smile. It's because I've lived with grown-up people, and I like reading better than games, really."

"You're very unusual, I'm sure," said Melisande with a smile, for his arrogance was amusing.

"Yes, I know," he said. "They're trying to make me more usual... . Not quite usual, of course, but more usual. That's why I'm here with Leon."

"Where is Leon now?"

"Down there."

"He doesn't mind your climbing about?"

"Oh, no. It is good for me. I do it to please Leon. I play bandits and disguise myself with seaweed to please him. It is good for me, the doctors say."

"But you enjoy it, I'm sure. You sounded as though you did when you called out about drinking my blood."

"A little perhaps. Otherwise I should not do it. You are French also?"

"I suppose so. I lived in France ... in a convent. I am not sure whether my parents were French or not."

"You are an orphan. I too am an orphan."

"Then we are of a kind."

"This is a steep bit. You may slip."

"I'll follow in your footsteps."

"When I am strong I shall swim. That will be good for my health. You should tell me your name. I must introduce you to Leon."

"It is St. Martin. Melisande St. Martin."

He nodded and went on. "There is Leon over there. He has seen us."

A tall thin man was coming towards them; there was a book in his hand; between him and the boy there was a slight resemblance.

"Leon!" cried the boy. "This is Mademoiselle St. Martin. She may be French. She does not know. She is an orphan as I am. She was lost but I showed her the way down."

"Good afternoon," said Melisande.

When he smiled he was very pleasant. "Good afternoon," he said. "So my nephew has made your acquaintance."

"He was kind enough to bring me down."

"I am glad he was of use."

"It was easy to me" boasted the boy.

"Raoul, Raoul!" admonished the man softly, but he smiled indulgently. He turned to Melisande. "Forgive his exuberance. He is really delighted to have helped."

"I am sure he is. You are living here for the winter, he tells me."

"Yes, we have taken a house. It is a great comfort to meet someone with whom we can talk with ease."

"I find it a great comfort," said the boy. "I told Mademoiselle St. Martin that the people here speak either very bad French or no French at all."

"Well, that is good for you," said Melisande. "It will teach you to speak English all the quicker."

"And when they do speak we can't understand," said the man. "I thought I had a fair knowledge of English, but I cannot understand that which is spoken here."

"It is a mixture of Cornish and English," said Melisande.

"I shall engage Mademoiselle as my interpreter!" said the boy.

The man said quickly: "I very much doubt that she would be willing to give you her services. You must forgive Raoul, Mademoiselle St. Martin. He is ten years old and we have brought him here to make him strong on cream and pasties. We have come for the climate which is supposed to be warmer than the east of England. Last winter we were in Kent. That was very cold. How I am talking! You must forgive me. It is because I have had to pick my words and stumble for so long."

"There are just the two of you?"

"We have brought our servants with us. They are not French."

"They are Kentish, and from London some of them," said Raoul, who clearly did not like to be left out of the conversation. "I thought they were hard to understand until we came here. The people here are far worse speakers."

"Well, I must say thank you for bringing me down," said Melisande, turning to Raoul.

"But you must not go yet!" said the boy, making it sound like a command.

"Oh, but I have to get back. I work here. I came out to take a message, and it is going to take me longer to get home round by the shore as I intended. So I must say goodbye."

"Let us walk with Mademoiselle," said Raoul.

"Let us ask first if she will allow us to do so."

"I should be delighted," said Melisande.

"I shall not be tired," said the boy. "I have had my afternoon sleep."

They walked over the rocks to the patches of sand.

"I hope we shall be able to meet again some time," said the man. "Gould you visit us, I wonder?"

The boy's darting attention had been caught by the living creatures in a rock pool and he stooped to examine them.

"I am only a companion here; you understand that?"

"I too am a companion of sorts."

"The little boy explained."

"He is delicate," said the man quietly. "He is clever and imaginative and full of high spirits, but bodily weak. I am afraid he has been rather spoiled because of this ... and because of other things. It is my task to look after him. I gather that you—a poor young lady —are companion to a rich woman. I—a poor man—am companion to a rich little boy."

"He said you were his uncle."

"The relationship is not so close as that. He thinks of me as his uncle. I am really only a second cousin. You see, you and I are in similar positions. I look after him. I teach him. I guard his health. That is my task."

"It must be very pleasant."

"I am fond of him, though at times things are a little difficult. As you have gathered he has been a little spoiled; but at heart he is the best little fellow in the world. Tell me, Mademoiselle, do you expect to stay here for a long time?"

"I don't know. I came here not very long ago as a companion to Miss Trevenning. Trevenning is the name of the house. Perhaps you know it. She is to be married soon ... after that ... I am not sure."

"And when will she be married?"

"On Christmas Day."

"That is some weeks ahead!"

"Why yes."

"I am glad. We must meet during that time. Compatriots in a foreign land must be friends."

The boy had come up. He was animated as he discussed the creatures he had been studying in the pool. His face was slightly pink and he was breathless; the knees of his knicker-bockers were damp.

The man said: "But you have got wet. We must go back at once."

"I do not wish to go back. I wish to stay and talk with Mademoiselle."

"But you must go back at once. You must change your clothes. Why, Mrs. Clark would be angry if you stayed out in wet clothes."

The boy's face was stubborn. He said: "It is not for Mrs. Clark to do anything but what I wish her to."

The man turned to Melisande as though he had not heard the boy's remark. "Mrs. Clark is our housekeeper," he explained. "A wonderful person. We are very fond of Mrs. Clark."

"All the same," said the boy, "she may not say when I have to go in and when I may stay out."

"Come," said the man, "I am sure Mademoiselle St. Martin will forgive us if we hurry away."

"Indeed I will, and I must hurry myself," said Melisande. "I must say goodbye ... quickly. Goodbye."

"Au revoir!" said the man. "We shall be on the beach to-morrow."

"If it is possible I may see you then."

She did not look at the boy's sullen face. She felt a sudden pity for the man who was poor and in charge of the spoilt rich little boy. She felt sorry for all those who were poor and must pander to the rich.

"Thank you," she said to Raoul, "for showing me the way down."

His face brightened. He seemed to have recovered from his sullenness. "Au revoir, Mademoiselle. I shall look for you to-morrow."

"Then goodbye. Au revoir. "

She hurried on, making her way rapidly until she came to Plaidy beach, where she left the shore and scrambled up the steep path away from the sea.

She heard a laugh and her name was being called.