Suddenly the dead man's arm floated round with a bump, as if, in return, he was trying to grab the boy round the waist. For a terrifying moment Jonathan imagined the corpse might wrap its arm around him, press him close and pull him down under the surface to join his watery death. In a panic he threw himself backwards, lost his balance and rolled under. For a second, under the water, he caught sight of the corpse's ghastly face, staring down, fish-like, at the bottom.

He stood up, steeled himself and went back. He pushed the dead man's arm firmly away, got hold of the belt, took a deep breath and searched with his fingers under water until he found what he was looking for.

The leather pouch was fastened to the belt with thongs, but they were tied in a simple knot. It took him a little time, moving beside the corpse as the waves brought it in, but the water was still up to his knees when he got it loose. The purse was heavy. He did not trouble to open it, but glanced about to see if he was observed. He wasn't. Willie was still by the boat in the creek. The thongs were just long enough to tie round his waist under his clothing. He did so, adjusted his sodden shirt and tunic over the purse and went back.

'You're wet,' said Willie. 'D'you find anything?'

'There's a body,' he replied. 'I'm afraid to touch him.'

'Oh,' said Willie and ran off. A short while later he returned. 'He was washed up on the beach. I got this.' He was holding the belt. 'Must be worth something.'

Jonathan nodded and said nothing.

They waited some time, until Seagull returned. He gave them a glance, saw the belt but made no comment.

'Anyone out there, Dad?' Willie asked.

'No, son. There's no one. The bodies'll be coming in on the beach now, I reckon.' He thought for a moment. 'We'll be taking the boat out. See what we can find. Be out all day, I shouldn't wonder.' If there was anything of value on the beaches or in the Channel waters for miles around, Alan Seagull would be sure to find it. 'You boys cut home. Tell your mother where we are,' he instructed his son. 'Your father'll be worried about you,' he remarked to Jonathan. 'You make sure you go straight home. All right?'

So the two boys obediently set off. It was only a five-mile walk back if they crossed directly above Pennington Marshes. They went along at a good pace.