as fetched, and we put our heads together over it, and in the
result the following afternoon saw us deposited--after a five-mile coach
ride from the nearest station--in front of the principal inn at
Whiddlecombe Regis.

It was a delightfully picturesque and retired place, with its one long
steep street, and flat massive church tower; and seemed to deserve all
the encomium which Bindley had bestowed upon it. It nestled snugly in
its own bay, which was guarded by bold headlands, all crimson and gold
with heather and gorse, shooting out into the sparkling blue of a summer
sea. Not a cloud was in the sky, and against the soft haze in the
offing a trail of smoke here and there marked out the flight of a
passing steamer.

Our "decent train from Waterloo" had proved to be a dismally early one,
consequently we found ourselves at our destination at an early hour of
the afternoon. So after we had lunched--plainly but exceedingly well--I
suggested we should go down to the beach and take on a good pull if
there was a light boat to be had, and a sail if there was not.

But Bindley was not an ideal travelling companion; I had found that out
in more than one trifling particular on the way down. Nor did he now
jump at my suggestion with the alacrity it deserved--or at any rate
which I thought it did. He made various objections. It was too hot--
and so forth. He felt more like taking it easy. What was the good in
coming away for a rest if one began by grinding one's soul out? he said.

However, I was bursting with long-pent-up energy. The glorious open
air, after the reek and fogginess of London had already begun to put new
life into me, and the smooth blue of the sea and its fresh salt whiff
invited its exploration. So I left Bindley to laze in peace and took my
way down to the beach. For a moment I had felt inclined to fall in with
his idea, or at any rate to wait an hour or two until he felt inclined
to fall in with mine, but the feeling passed. How little I knew what
the next twelve hours or so were destined to bring forth!

The beach at Whiddlecombe Regis held everything in common with the beach
at half a hundred similar places. There were the same fishing boats and
the same whiff thereof--some with their brown sails up and drying, and
two or three of their blue jerseyed owners doing odd jobs about them;
others alone and deserted, with nets hung over the side to dry.
Children were paddling in the little sparkling r