mile further. See,
there is the water.' He pointed to a short fragment of level muddy-gray
colour, cutting against the sky.

Elfride had already scanned the small surface of ocean visible, and had
seen no ship.

They walked along in company, sometimes with the brook between them--for
it was no wider than a man's stride--sometimes close together. The green
carpet grew swampy, and they kept higher up.

One of the two ridges between which they walked dwindled lower and
became insignificant. That on the right hand rose with their advance,
and terminated in a clearly defined edge against the light, as if it
were abruptly sawn off. A little further, and the bed of the rivulet
ended in the same fashion.

They had come to a bank breast-high, and over it the valley was no
longer to be seen. It was withdrawn cleanly and completely. In its
place was sky and boundless atmosphere; and perpendicularly down beneath
them--small and far off--lay the corrugated surface of the Atlantic.

The small stream here found its death. Running over the precipice it was
dispersed in spray before it was half-way down, and falling like rain
upon projecting ledges, made minute grassy meadows of them. At the
bottom the water-drops soaked away amid the debris of the cliff. This
was the inglorious end of the river.

'What are you looking for? said Knight, following the direction of her
eyes.

She was gazing hard at a black object--nearer to the shore than to the
horizon--from the summit of which came a nebulous haze, stretching like
gauze over the sea.

'The Puffin, a little summer steamboat--from Bristol to Castle Boterel,'
she said. 'I think that is it--look. Will you give me the glass?'

Knight pulled open the old-fashioned but powerful telescope, and handed
it to Elfride, who had looked on with heavy eyes.

'I can't keep it up now,' she said.

'Rest it on my shoulder.'

'It is too high.'

'Under my arm.'

'Too low. You may look instead,' she murmured weakly.

Knight raised the glass to his eye, and swept the sea till the Puffin
entered its field.

'Yes, it is the Puffin--a tiny craft. I can see her figure-head
distinctly--a bird with a beak as big as its head.'

'Can you see the deck?'

'Wait a minute; yes, pretty clearly. And I can see the black forms
of the passengers against its white surface. One of them has taken
something from another--a glass, I think--yes, it is--and he is
levelling it in this direction. Depend upon i