She took the stairs two at a time and dashed down the corridor to her grandparents’ room. “Grandfather!” She pounded on the door with a fist. “Grandfather, wake up!” No movement came from within. “Grandfather!” Were they gone? Were they dead? Lizzie wrenched open the door and flung herself through it, to be brought up like a runaway horse on the thick rug between door and bed. Her grandparents stood at the window in their dressing-gowns, watching the sea. Neptune’s Maid was invisible from this angle, but they might have seen her surface earlier. “Grandfather, you must come quickly! There are smugglers in the cove!” He did not respond. Grandmother, however, turned toward her and frowned. “Keep your voice down, dear. You will wake the servants, if you have not already.” “But Grandmother—”
