ere all equal, equal sharers in
the chances of the sea.

More, the sex standard seemed to have vanished with the social. Nothing
remained but the human, for that is the rule with the open boat at sea.

When they lowered the sail for screening purposes, when they raised it
again, it was all the same, for the human level is above all little
things.

Towards noon and with the coast now closer and well-defined, La Touche
sighted something ahead. It was a rock, high and pointed like a black
spire protruding from the sea and standing there like an outpost of the
land.

"Had we better give it a wide berth?" asked La Touche. "Maybe there's
more near it."

"The sea is running smooth enough by it," said Bompard. "I don't see
breakers, and we don't draw anything to speak of." He held on.

The sun was shewing through breaks in the high clouds and its light fell
on the water and the rock, pied with roosting guillemots. As the boat
drew near the guillemots gave tongue. The sound came against the wind
fierce and complaining, antagonistic like the voice of loneliness crying
out against them and telling them to be gone--be gone--be gone!

Cleo, as they passed, saw the green water sliding up and falling from
the polished black rock surface. The sight seemed to bring the hostile
coast leagues nearer and the bagpipe crying of the guillemots as it died
away behind them seemed a barrier passed, never to be re-crossed.

CHAPTER VII

THE COAST

And now, away at sea and leagues from the coast they were approaching,
vast islands disclosed themselves suddenly through the sea haze,
standing like giants waist deep in the ocean, whilst the coast itself
with its cliffs and rocks of black basalt and dolerite shewed clear,
extraordinarily clear, with every detail defined in the sunlight, from
the rifts in the basalt to the gulls blowing about in legions and the
great sea-geese hovering and fishing.

The coast was ferocious, and the whole country from the sea foam to the
foothills looked tumbled and new, with the newness of infinite
antiquity. The last thunders of creation seemed scarcely to have died
away, the last throe scarcely to have ceased, leaving million-ton rock
cast on rock and the new, shear-cut cliffs spitting back their first
taste of the bitter sea.

"There is nowhere to land," said the girl. She was shuddering as a dog
shudders when overstrung.

"Ay, it's a brute beast of a place," said Bompard, "well, we must nos