Suddenly the sun broke above the edge of the maggot-cloud and flooded the world with light.
The tide was still rising, and they were marooned on a large sandbank in the middle of the estuary. Ahead, a stone's throw away, stood the Beacon-tower, grey and squat, rising above the sea mist on a small rocky island. But between them and it was a swirling and eddying stretch of water.
"We can swim it," said Graham.
"Never!" said Darach. "The current will pull you under in a flash."
"What can we do then?"
"Hope that the Keeper has an eye out for -" he stopped suddenly.
"What is it?" asked Graham.
Darach said nothing, but stared at a spot not four yards in front of the party. The sand was liquefying for something below the surface was moving. Two stick-like objects reared from out of the sand.
"What on earth -"
"Too late! Too late!" yelled Darach, "Back! Back!"
"Which way?"
"Any way!"
"But the water! We're surrounded!"
The sticks were eyes. The sand shifted and the shiny green back of a huge crab emerged. Like some ghastly machine, it dragged itself from its sandy bed and stood in the swirling water upon its many-jointed legs, huge claws clicking, mouthparts dripping.
"What kind of crab is this?" cried Colin. "It's as big as a man!"
"And it's between us and the tower."
They backed off slowly, while the crab lowered its eyestalks into the forty-five degree position and cleaned them with its claws. Behind them, the channel had widened, and the current was fast.
"Water all round – and that thing ahead of us."
"Maybe if we confused it –" suggested Graham.
"Had you any confusing tricks in mind?" replied Colin sarcastically.
"No! I mean, if we were to yell and wave our arms and –"
The crab had stopped cleaning itself. It was watching them. They stared back.
"Surely they must be able to see us from the tower. Why don't they get a boat and do something?" cried Gwen.
"Maybe the horsemen got here first," said Colin grimly.
Suddenly Darach cried, "Stay where you are!" And throwing down his bag and taking his staff in both hands he ran towards the crab making the most terrifying noise, which became a sort of chant:
Beware, O crab, I see thee! Hear thee!
When I catch thee I shall eat thee! I shall tear thy limbs from off thee! O thou monster!
Beware, I, waiting,
In the early light of morning! Waiting! Waiting! Waiting!
The crab scuffled sideways, bewildered by this attack, its claws snapping the air. Darach seized his advantage, and swung round on the creature, landing it a resounding blow on the leg. There was a crack, but the crab was unbowed.
It seized the end of Darach's staff in a vice-like grip. Darach tightened his grip on the other end, and there followed a mock-dance, with man and crab waltzing round and round each other with only the staff's length between Darach and the deadly claws.
"Quickly!" yelled Graham. "We've got to help him." And the three of them rushed forward.
"Get out of the way," Darach commanded, but they took no notice.
They ducked under and around the six scuttling legs, kicking and yelling. But the crab's shell was all but impenetrable.
Suddenly Gwen said, "Turn it over! Turn it over like a turtle! Turn it over!"
Darach was now tiring of the struggle and the crab's free claw was snapping dangerously close to his head. Colin grabbed hold of the staff with him, and tugged. The crab, suddenly presented with another enemy, seized the staff with his other claw. The struggle became furious and confused. The crab scuttled to right and left, legs moving like pistons.
"Graham!" Colin yelled. "Get hold of the staff with us. Gwen - get out of the way!"
"Not likely," Gwen said, and grabbed hold of the staff with the others. The crab's attempts to wrestle with the staff became more furious. "Tip it over to the right!" cried Darach. "Now!"
Suddenly all four of them wrenched the staff over, and the crab, refusing to let go, went with it. Its legs sprawled in all directions, and it fell over sideways.
"On to its back!" Darach cried, and with one final heaving of the staff the crab was thrown on to its back, legs vainly pedalling the air.
It relinquished its grip on the staff in order to get up again. As it did so, Colin seized the staff and brought it down on the crab. Once. Twice. Three times.
Suddenly a voice said, "Stand back!"
And before they knew it, a figure had stepped forward, and with a harpoon, dispatched the struggling crab.
"Hardly a timely entrance," said Darach to the Keeper.
"Get into the boat," the Keeper said, not smiling, "or you'll be drowning. The tide's still rising."
Though the battle had seemed to last hours, it had in fact encompassed no more than a minute or two, and the sand-bank on which they were standing was now no more than a few feet across, and disappearing rapidly.
They got into the boat and the Keeper began to row towards the Beacon. He was a burly, low-browed man, with a short, greying beard, and the expression on his face was like thunder. He didn't look at Darach or the children, but pulled on the oars, and kept his eyes down. Eventually, the keel of the bow grated on the shingle of Beacon Island.
"Get out," the Keeper ordered.
One by one they get out of the little boat and stood on the beach while the Keeper dragged it out of the water and tied it up.
"You'd best come inside," he said sullenly. "Get those clothes dry."
He swung open the heavy oak door and led the way up a flight of slippery stone steps in a large, single-windowed room. A small fire was burning in the grate.
"Sit down," he said.
"I'd better introduce you," said Darach. "Gwen - Colin – Graham, this is the Keeper of the Beacon."
"How d'you do?" said Gwen.
"Pleased to meet you," said Colin.
"Likewise I'm sure," added Graham.
The Keeper said nothing, but sniffed and set about cooking some fish for breakfast. Darach did not seem surprised by his strange silence, but took the books out of his bag, which had begun to float as the tide came in, and dried them in front of the fire. Only when the Keeper went out for some more driftwood for the fire did Colin say:
"He's a bit odd isn't he? He hasn't said more than half a dozen words since we arrived."
"He lives alone," explained Darach. "Doesn't need to talk much."
"But what about the sailors and the captains, all the ships that come up the estuary?"
"No ship has been up the estuary for the past fifty years. Too much silt."
"Is the Beacon still lit?"
"No. There's no reason to light it. And there never will be. Eventually the sea will recede completely, and this place will be left in the middle of the dunes."
"An island in the sand?"
"That's right."
"How strange."
They breakfasted well, and dried their clothes. Just as they were settling down to catch up on some of their lost sleep they heard the rhythmic beating of a large drum. They ran to the window. Coming up the estuary, born on the rippled surface of the water like a magnificently plumed bird, was a barge. It was painted in gold and red, and two huge banners furled and snapped from poles at its stern. The prow was carved like a three-headed dragon, bright green and gold, and the six oarsmen were also in those colors. Sitting forward of the oarsmen was a gentleman with a feathered hat, beating out the rhythm on a huge drum. But the most arresting figure in the barge was that of a lady wrapped in furs, sitting towards the stern of the boat, looking neither to right or left, with Wake-Robin sitting beside her.
"Oh no, " said Darach, turning away from the window.
"What's wrong?" asked Graham.
"She said she was just going to send an official –"
"Who did?"
"But she's here! That's her!"
"Who has? Who is?"
"The Queen, my boy, the Queen herself!"