“I left them out on the beach for a bit, whilst I came in to make the tea; and they had my orders to come when I signalled, but they never took no notice.  So I ran down to the beach, and there wasn’t a sign of them; and there was nothing more that I could do till you came home.”

“How long ago?” asked Mrs. Beauchamp.

All of a sudden the tired look had come back to her face.  She was anxious, but she was not frightened.

“It was about five I called to them, and it’s past six now.”

“Have you any idea where they are?”

“Well, I’ve heard Miss Susie speak of the town and buying sweets; and she’s that audacious by times she might have dragged the poor child off without stopping to think—­and it’s a long three miles, and a regular downpour coming on.”

Simultaneously both mother and nurse turned back to the pavement and looked critically at the sky and the sea.  There was very little to be seen but scurrying clouds and one or two misty stars, but the boom of the waves on the shore was loud and importunate.  Without a word they came in and shut the door.

“I don’t think they can be on the beach,” said their mother, as cheerfully as she could, “but it is like looking for a needle in a haystack.  I will go and speak to the policeman and the fishermen.”

She spoke wearily, and the anxious line deepened between her eyes, as she stood irresolutely on the steps, looking into the darkness and feeling the lashing of the fine rain against her face.  A sickening wave of fear rolled over her, but nurse could not tell it by her voice.

“No doubt they started for the town—­Susie is thoughtless.  Open my umbrella, please, nurse, and keep their supper hot.”

“I do hope Master Dick don’t get his nasty cough back,” said nurse.

“Oh, I don’t think he will,” said Mrs. Beauchamp.

She ran down the steps, holding her umbrella firmly, and battling with the gusts of wind that swept the Parade.  The insistent thunder of the waves sounded very dreary.

She ran over to the sea wall and down the wooden steps on to the beach.  Two or three fishermen were sheltering close under the cliff; the wind was so loud that she had to shout at them to be heard.

“Have you been here long?” she said.

“Yes, most of the day.”  A short black pipe was removed to allow of the remark.

“Have you seen some children playing about—­a little girl in a red jersey, a boy in a sailor suit?”

The answer was very deliberate.  A great many boys and girls had been playing on the sands—­there always were a “rack” of them—­the rain came and swamped them.  He hadn’t noticed no red jersey in particular.

“Did you see any of them on the rocks?”

No; but then they might have been, for he hadn’t been looking that way.

“But some of you would have seen them,” Mrs. Beauchamp urged.  “If two children had been scrambling on the rocks at sunset, some of you would have noticed them?”