And then they were on the beach, very pebbly with small stones, and there was the home of the Dwellers by the Sea; and beyond it, broad and blue and beautiful, the sea by which they dwelt.
The Dwelling seemed to be a sort of town of rounded buildings more like lime-kilns than anything else, with arched doors leading to dark insides.

They were all built of tiny stones, such as lay on the beach.
Beyond the huts or houses towered the castle, a vast rough structure with towers and arches and buttresses and bastions and glacis and bridges and a great moat all round it.
'But I never built a city like that, did you ?' Lucy asked as they drew near.
'No,' Philip answered; 'at least--do you know, I do believe it's the sand castle Helen and I built last summer at Dymchurch.

And those huts are the moulds I made of my pail--with the edges worn off, you know.' Towards the castle the travellers advanced, the camel lurching like a boat on a rough sea, and the dogs going with cat-like delicacy over the stones.

They skirted large pools and tall rocks seaweed covered.

Along a road broad enough for twelve chariots to have driven on it abreast, slowly they came to the great gate of the castle.