ther be afraid of
it, than not have it to be afraid of. But it upsets the government,
because we ought to be _happy_ troops of gentle islanders, and you can't
be quite happy if you're afraid. That's why it's one of your deeds to
take away our fear.'

'It sounds jolly difficult,' said Philip; 'I shall have to think,' he
added desperately. So he lay and thought with Max and Brenda asleep by
his side and the parrot preening its bright feathers on the parapet of
the tower, while Lucy and the Lord High Islander played cat's cradle
with a long thread of seaweed.

'It's supper time,' said Billy at last. 'Have you thought of anything?'

'Not a single thing,' said Philip.

'Well, don't swat over it any more,' said Billy; 'just stay with us and
have a jolly time. You're sure to think of something. Or else Lucy will.
We'll act charades to-night.'

They did. The rest of the islanders were an extremely jolly lot, and all
the M.A.'s came out of their huts to be audience. It was a charming
evening, and ended up with hide-and-seek all over the castle.

To wake next morning on a bed of soft, dry, sweet-smelling seaweed, and
to know that the day was to be spent in having a good time with the
jolliest set of children she had ever met, was delightful to Lucy.
Philip's delight was dashed by the knowledge that he must, sooner or
later, _think_. But the day passed most agreeably. They all bathed in
the rock pools, picked up shell-fish for dinner, played rounders in the
afternoon, and in the evening danced to the music made by the M.A.'s who
most of them carried flutes in their pockets, and who were all very
flattered at being asked to play.

So the pleasant days went on. Every morning Philip said to himself, 'Now
to-day I really _must_ think of something,' and every night he said, 'I
really ought to have thought of something.' But he never could think of
anything to take away the fear of the gentle islanders.

It was on the sixth night that the storm came. The wind blew and the sea
roared and the castle shook to its very foundations. And Philip,
awakened by the noise and the shaking, sat up in bed and understood what
the fear was that spoiled the happiness of the Dwellers by the Sea.

'Suppose the sea did sweep us all away,' he said; 'and they haven't even
got a boat.'

And then, when he was quite far from expecting it, he did think of
something. And he went on thinking about it so hard that he couldn't
sleep any more.

And in t