Mavis. "If they can't manage that piece of cliff, how would they scramble
down into the cove?"

"They haven't got tennis shoes on for one thing," remarked Merle, "and
boots are horribly slippery. You ought to have rubber soles for these
rocks. It just makes all the difference. Mavis and I always wear them at
Chagmouth."

"So do we. We learnt that at Porthkeverne. We're used to scrambling. As
for Fay she's a real fairy. I believe she could fly if you gave her a
push over the edge to start her off."

"Don't try, thanks, or I might turn into a mermaid instead of a fairy or
a bird! I often think, though, I'd like a private aeroplane of my own.
They're things that are bound to come sooner or later. I only hope I
shan't be too old to use one when they do. What a view it is here!"

The difficult piece of cliff had led them round a corner, and they were
now facing a magnificent sweep of coast-line. Below them, fixed to a buoy
that floated on the water, a bell was ringing incessantly, its clanging
sound floating over the sea like the knell of a mermaid's funeral.

"It's to warn the vessels off the rocks," explained Mavis. "They can hear
it in a fog when they can't see quite where they are." Merle and I always
call it 'The Inchcape Bell.' Oh, you know the story?

'The worthy abbot of Aberbrothock
Had fixed that bell on the Inchcape rock.
On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung,
And over the waves its warning rung.'