“I want to see the diver,” said the small boy.
“There he is,” said Frank, bending and pointing—“that chap there putting on the helmet. They’re going to lower him into the water.”
“Won’t he be drowned?” said the child.
“Divers don’t drown,” said the coast-guard. “They have air pumped into them all the time. Watch him disappear. There he goes.”
The surface of the water was disturbed a minute and then was clear again. “He’s gone,” said the small boy.
“Where’s Maxim?” I said.
“He’s taken one of the crew into Kerrith,” said Frank; “the fellow lost his head and jumped for it apparently when the ship struck. We found him clinging onto one of the rocks here under the cliff. He was soaked to the skin of course and shaking like a jelly. Couldn’t speak a word of English, of course. Maxim went down to him, and found him bleeding like a pig from a scratch on the rocks. He spoke to him in German. Then he hailed one of the motorboats from Kerrith that was hanging around like a hungry shark, and he’s gone off with him to get him bandaged by a doctor. If he’s lucky he’ll just catch old Phillips sitting down to lunch.”
“When did he go?” I said.
“He went just before you turned up,” said Frank, “about five minutes ago. I wonder you didn’t see the boat. He was sitting in the stern with this German fellow.”
“He must have gone while I was climbing up the cliff,” I said.
“Maxim is splendid at anything like this,” said Frank. “He always gives a hand if he can. You’ll find he will invite the whole crew back to Manderley, and feed them, and give them beds into the bargain.”
“That’s right,” said the coast-guard. “He’d give the coat off his back for any of his own people, I know that. I wish there was more like him in the county.”
“Yes, we could do with them,” said Frank.
We went on staring at the ship. The tugs were standing off still, but the lifeboat had turned and gone back towards Kerrith.
“It’s not their turn today,” said the coast-guard.
“No,” said Frank, “and I don’t think it’s a job for the tugs either. It’s the ship-breaker who’s going to make money this time.”
The gulls wheeled overhead, mewing like hungry cats; some of them settled on the ledges of the cliff, while others, bolder, rode the surface of the water beside the ship.
The coast-guard took off his cap and mopped his forehead.
“Seems kind of airless, doesn’t it?” he said.
“Yes,” I said.
The pleasure-boat with the camera people went chugging off towards Kerrith. “They’ve got fed up,” said the coast-guard.
“I don’t blame them,” said Frank. “I don’t suppose anything will happen for hours. The diver will have to make his report before they try to shift her.”
“That’s right,” said the coast-guard.
“I don’t think there’s much sense in hanging about here,” said Frank; “we can’t do anything. I want my lunch.”
I did not say anything. He hesitated. I felt his eyes upon me.
“What are you going to do?” he said.
“I think I shall stay here a bit,” I said. “I can have lunch anytime. It’s cold. It doesn’t matter. I want to see what the diver’s going to do.” Somehow I could not face Frank just at the moment. I wanted to be alone, or with someone I did not know, like the coast-guard.
“You won’t see anything,” said Frank; “there won’t be anything to see. Why not come back and have some lunch with me?”
“No,” I said. “No, really…”
“Oh, well,” said Frank, “you know where to find me if you do want me. I shall be at the office all the afternoon.”
“All right,” I said.
He nodded to the coast-guard and went off down the cliff towards the cove. I wondered if I had offended him. I could not help it. All these things would be settled some day, one day. So much seemed to have happened since I spoke to him on the telephone, and I did not want to think about anything anymore. I just wanted to sit there on the cliff and stare at the ship.
“He’s a good sort, Mr. Crawley,” said the coast-guard.
“Yes,” I said.
“He’d give his right hand for Mr. de Winter too,” he said.
“Yes, I think he would,” I said.