There was indeed no one to start, and there was no castle to start from.
A young blugraiwee, peeping out of its hole after a rather disturbed night to see whether any human beings were yet stirring or whether it might venture out in search of yellow periwinkles, which are its favourite food, started, pricked its spotted ears, looked again, and, disdaining the cover of the rocks, walked boldly out across the beach.
For the beach was deserted.

There was no one there.

No Mr.Noah, no Lucy, no gentle islanders, no M.A.'s--and what is more there were no huts and there was no castle.

All was smooth, plain, bare sea-combed beach.
For the sea had at last risen.

The fear of the Dwellers had been justified.