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Updated: May 20, 2025
His yacht's been at Port Sennen, having some repairs done, and he arranged to go there straight from school early this morning, and sail her round to Chagmouth." "Well! The lad can handle a yacht all right." "It isn't that! Bevis knows as much about sailing as most folks. But there's a nasty sea fog come on, and just as it happens the clapper is gone out of the bell by St. Morval's Head.
Morval's Head. It was a glorious autumn afternoon, and, though the bracken was brown and withered, there were specimens of wild flowers to be picked and written down in the note-books. Summer seemed to have lingered, and had left poppies, honeysuckle, foxgloves, and other blossoms that were certainly out of season.
"There isn't time, though, to go and dig for lob-worms. What's to be done about it?" "Oh, we'll use limpets or anything else we can get," decreed Beata. "We'll find something along the rocks, you'll see. Mavis, where are we going? You know all the best walks. We elect you leader this afternoon." "It's beautiful along the cliffs towards St Morval's Head.
Morval's Head, and that she must be just about over the spot where the buoy was floating with its clapperless bell. "It's the story of the Inchcape rock all over again," she muttered, and sitting down on the bracken she began ringing. It was monotonous work and tiring too. It made her arm ache, and she had to use her left hand for a while instead.
"Why, yes, my dear! But whatever do you want that for?" "I'm going to take it to St. Morval's Head and ring it!" "Bless you! Not a bad idea either! There'd be no harm done anyhow. I'd go with you if I'd the time. Mind your way along that slippery cliff. Pity your sister's not here to-day!" "I shall be all right, thanks! The fog isn't so bad on land. It's quite easy to see where one's going."
"Nan and I don't like walking so near the edge either. I wouldn't cross that place for worlds." So it was arranged that the Ramsays and the Castletons and Fay should go on to St. Morval's Head, while the rest of the company turned back. "It's a pity, but it's no good taking people who turn giddy," commented Mavis.
Penruddock's apple face looked quite miserable, but sounds of thumping at the back door drew her away from the parlour, and stopped any further confidences. Mavis ate her lunch thoughtfully. "Is a fog worse on the sea than on land?" she asked at last. "It is, if you can't tell where you're going. Who's been fooling with the bell at St. Morval's, I wonder?
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