to make sure of an ultimate
footing, his eye lighted with a shock of surprise on a pair of huge eyes
looking straight up at him out of the water. They were violet in colour,
protuberant, and malevolent beyond words.

He sat down suddenly on the baking black rock, with a cold shiver
running down his back in spite of the scorch of the sun. The utter cold
malignity of those great violet eyes, and the thought of what would have
happened if he had stepped into that pool, made him momentarily sick.

He had seen small devil-fish in the pools in Sark, but never one
approaching this in size. He crept away at last, leaving it in
possession, and found a pool clear of boulders or caving hollows, and
sat in it with no great enjoyment, wondering if the great unwholesome
beast in the other would be likely to climb the cliff and come upon him
in the night. He thought it unlikely, but still the idea clung to him
and caused him no little discomfort. He blocked his door that night with
great green cushions, though he felt doubtful if they would be effective
against the wiles and strength of a devil-fish, if half that he had
heard of them was true.

In the middle of the night--for he went to bed early, having nothing
else to do, except to watch the stars--he woke with a cold start,
feeling certain that hideous creature had crawled up the slope and was
feeling all round his house for an entrance.

Certainly _something_ was moving about outside, and feeling over the
stones in an uncertain, searching kind of a way. And when you have been
wakened up from a nightmare in which staring devil-eyes played a
prominent part, _something_ may be anything, and as like as not the
owner of the eyes.

But even devil-fishes in their most advanced stages have not yet
attained the power of human speech. If they speak to one another what a
horrible sound it must be!

It was with a sigh of relief, and a sudden unstringing of the bow, that
he heard outside--

"Mr. Gard!" and with a lusty kick, which expressed some of his feeling,
he sent his doorway flying and crawled out after it.

The myriad winking stars lifted the roof of the world and the darkness
somewhat, sufficient at all events for him to make out that it was not
Nance.

"You, Bernel?" he queried, as the only possible alternative.

"Yes, Mr. Gard. I've brought you some more things to eat."

"Good lad! I'm a great trouble to you. Where is Nance? In the boat?"

"No, she couldn't come. That