But the
Vicar never did that.
And once, in quest of the how and the why, Nance swam into the
blow-hole's cave at a very low tide, and its size and the dome of its
roof, compared with the narrowness of its entrance, amazed her, but she
did not stay long for it gave her the creeps.
These were some of the ways by which little Nance grew to a larger
estate than most of her fellows, and all these things helped to make her
what she came to be.
When she grew old enough to assist in the farm, new realms of delight
opened to her. Chickens, calves, lambs, piglets--she foster-mothered
them all and knew no weariness in all such duties which were rather
pleasures.
It was a wounded rabbit, limping into cover under a tangle of gorse and
blackberry bashes, that discovered to her the entrance to the series of
little chambers and passages that led right through the headland to the
side looking into Port Gorey. Which most satisfactory hiding-place she
and Bernel turned to good account on many an occasion when brother Tom's
oppression passed endurance.
It had taken time, and much screwing up of childish courage, to explore
the whole of that extraordinary little burrow, and it was not the work
of a day.
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