te, in his flaming scarlet coat of mail, passed through a
glassy pool among the rocks, treading sedately on pointed claws; the
lancons tunnelled the oozing beach under her pink feet, like streams
of living quicksilver; the big, blue sea-crabs sidled off the reef,
sheering down sideways into limpid depths. Landward the curlew walked
in twos and threes, swinging their long sickle bills; the sea-swallows
drove by like gray snow-squalls, melting away against the sky; a
vitreous living creature, blazing with purest sapphire light, floated
past under water.

Ange Pitou, coveting a warm sun-bath in the sand, came wandering along
pretending not to see us; but Jacqueline dragged him into her arms for
a hug, which lasted until Ange Pitou broke loose, tail hoisted but
ears deaf to further flattery.

So Jacqueline chased Ange Pitou back across the sand and up the rocky
path, pursuing her pet from pillar to post with flying feet that fell
as noiselessly as the velvet pads of Ange Pitou.

"Come to the net-shed, if you please!" she called back to me,
pointing to a crazy wooden structure built above the house.

As I entered the net-shed the child was dragging a pile of sea-nets to
the middle of the floor.

"In case I fall," she said, coolly.

"Better let me arrange them, then," I said, glancing up at the
improvised trapeze which dangled under the roof-beams.

She thanked me, seized a long rope, and went up, hand over hand. I
piled the soft nets into a mattress, but decided to stand near, not
liking the arrangements.

Meanwhile Jacqueline was swinging, head downward, from her trapeze.
Her cheeks flamed as she twisted and wriggled through a complicated
manoeuvre, which ended by landing her seated on the bar of the trapeze
a trifle out of breath. With both hands resting on the ropes, she
started herself swinging, faster, faster, then pretended to drop off
backward, only to catch herself with her heels, substitute heels for
hands, and hang. Doubling back on her own body, she glided to her
perch beneath the roof, shook her damp hair back, set the trapeze
flying, and curled up on the bar, resting as fearlessly and securely
as a bullfinch in a tree-top.

Above her the red-and-black wasps buzzed and crawled and explored the
sun-scorched beams. Spiders watched her from their silken hammocks,
and the tiny cliff-mice scuttled from beam to beam. Through the open
door the sunshine poured a flood of gold over the floor where the
bronzed