From behind a boulder above the Spring emerged a large girl dressed in green cheesecloth. She was a blonde and the most had been made of her hair which was crowned by a tinsel star. From her left hand depended a long string of glittering beads, symbolic, clearly, of Water. Her right hand was raised. The gesture, inappropriately, was accompanied by a really formidable roll of thunder. The sun was now overcast and the heavens were black.

Wally looked up at the newcomer, gave one of his strange cries, pointed to her and laughed uproariously.

‘Thus,’ sang the choir, ‘the Magic Spell was wroughten

Thus the little lad was healed – ’

The Green Lady executed some weaving movements with her left hand. A sudden clap of thunder startled her. The string of beads fell on the ledge below. She looked helplessly after it and continued her pantomime. The choir sang on and began a concerted movement. They flanked the Spring and formed up in set groups, kneeling and pointing out the green girl to the audience. Miss Cost propelled Wally towards the ledge. It was the dénouement.

The applause had scarcely died away when Miss Emily rose and approached the microphone.

‘Mr Mayor,’ she began, ‘ladies and gentlemen. I wish to protest –’

Major Barrimore had risen to his feet with an oath. At the same moment there was a blinding flash of lightning, followed immediately by a stentorian thunder-clap, a deluge of rain, and a shout of uncontrollable laughter from Dr Maine.

II

The stampede was immediate. Crowds poured out of the enclosure and down to the foreshore. The launch filled. There were clamorous shouts for dinghies. The younger element ran round the point of the bay, made for the hotel causeway and splashed precariously across it. The Boy-and-Lobster contingent took to the path that led directly to the hotel. It was a holocaust. Miss Cost, wildly at large among her drenched and disorganized troupe, was heard to scream: ‘It’s a judgment.’ Unmindful they swept past her. She was deserted. Her velvet bodice leaked green dye into her blouse. Green rivulets ran down her arms. Her hair was plastered like seaweed against her face. The text of the play fell from her hand, and lay, disregarded, in the mud.

Mrs Barrimore held a brief exchange with Miss Emily who had opened her umbrella and from beneath it, steadily regarded Superintendent Coombe’s late companion. She waved her hostess aside. Mrs Barrimore took to her heels, followed by her husband and Dr Maine. She outdistanced them, fled the enclosure, ran like a gazelle along the path to The Boy-and-Lobster and disappeared.

Major Barrimore and Dr Maine, who was still laughing, made after her. They were confronted at the gate by Miss Cost.