Maxim smiled down at me, watching the bewilderment on my face.
“It’s a shock, isn’t it?” he said; “no one ever expects it. The contrast is too sudden; it almost hurts.” He picked up a stone and flung it across the beach for Jasper. “Fetch it, good man,” and Jasper streaked away in search of the stone, his long black ears flapping in the wind.
The enchantment was no more, the spell was broken. We were mortal again, two people playing on a beach. We threw more stones, went to the water’s edge, flung ducks and drakes, and fished for driftwood. The tide had turned, and came lapping in the bay. The small rocks were covered, the seaweed washed on the stones. We rescued a big floating plank and carried it up the beach above high-water mark. Maxim turned to me, laughing, wiping the hair out of his eyes, and I unrolled the sleeves of my mackintosh caught by the sea spray. And then we looked round, and saw that Jasper had disappeared. We called and whistled, and he did not come. I looked anxiously towards the mouth of the cove where the waves were breaking upon the rocks.
“No,” said Maxim, “we should have seen him, he can’t have fallen. Jasper, you idiot, where are you? Jasper, Jasper?”
“Perhaps he’s gone back to the Happy Valley?” I said.
“He was by that rock a minute ago, sniffing a dead sea-gull,” said Maxim.
We walked up the beach towards the valley once again. “Jasper, Jasper?” called Maxim.
In the distance, beyond the rocks to the right of the beach, I heard a short, sharp bark. “Hear that?” I said. “He’s climbed over this way.” I began to scramble up the slippery rocks in the direction of the bark.
“Come back,” said Maxim sharply; “we don’t want to go that way. The fool of a dog must look after himself.”
I hesitated, looked down from my rock. “Perhaps he’s fallen,” I said, “poor little chap. Let me fetch him.” Jasper barked again, further away this time. “Oh, listen,” I said, “I must get him. It’s quite safe, isn’t it? The tide won’t have cut him off?”
“He’s all right,” said Maxim irritably; “why not leave him? He knows his own way back.”
I pretended not to hear, and began scrambling over the rocks towards Jasper. Great jagged boulders screened the view, and I slipped and stumbled on the wet rocks, making my way as best I could in Jasper’s direction. It was heartless of Maxim to leave Jasper, I thought, and I could not understand it. Besides, the tide was coming in. I came up beside the big boulder that had hidden the view, and looked beyond it. And I saw, to my surprise, that I was looking down into another cove, similar to the one I had left, but wider and more rounded. A small stone breakwater had been thrown out across the cove for shelter, and behind it the bay formed a tiny natural harbor. There was a buoy anchored there, but no boat. The beach in the cove was white shingle, like the one behind me, but steeper, shelving suddenly to the sea. The woods came right down to the tangle of seaweed marking high water, encroaching almost to the rocks themselves, and at the fringe of the woods was a long low building, half cottage, half boathouse, built of the same stone as the breakwater.
There was a man on the beach, a fisherman perhaps, in long boots and a sou’wester, and Jasper was barking at him, running round him in circles, darting at his boots. The man took no notice; he was bending down, and scraping in the shingle. “Jasper,” I shouted, “Jasper, come here.”
The dog looked up, wagging his tail, but he did not obey me. He went on baiting the solitary figure on the beach.
I looked over my shoulder. There was still no sign of Maxim. I climbed down over the rocks to the beach below. My feet made a crunching noise across the shingle, and the man looked up at the sound. I saw then that he had the small slit eyes of an idiot, and the red, wet mouth. He smiled at me, showing toothless gums.
“G’day,” he said. “Dirty, ain’t it?”
“Good afternoon,” I said. “No. I’m afraid it’s not very nice weather.”
He watched me with interest, smiling all the while. “Diggin’ for shell,” he said. “No shell here. Been diggin’ since forenoon.”
“Oh,” I said, “I’m sorry you can’t find any.”
“That’s right,” he said, “no shell here.”
“Come on, Jasper,” I said, “it’s getting late. Come on, old boy.”
But Jasper was in an infuriating mood. Perhaps the wind and the sea had gone to his head, for he backed away from me, barking stupidly, and began racing round the beach after nothing at all. I saw he would never follow me, and I had no lead. I turned to the man, who had bent down again to his futile digging.