sour as a fanatic and as gloomy as a
thief.

To find the fogou, among the bewildering growth of ferns, was by no
means the easiest task in the world: for the rude cave-dwelling was
literally buried in the hill-side; its entrance being hidden by the rank
vegetation that here reached almost to Elijah's arm-pits.

As he ploughed his way through the trackless tangle, giving vent the
while to a superfluity of oaths, he presently stumbled on the entrance
to the fogou, almost precipitating himself into its darkness, so
suddenly had he stumbled on it, wading through the ferns.

The low and narrow tunnel in the hill-side, with its walls and roof
lined with slabs of rock, was as uncanny a spot as a man could set foot
in, and Elijah shook like one with the ague, as he thrust aside the
ferns and peered into the blackness.

He turned round, half inclined to retreat; but, as he turned, his eyes
chanced to travel to the sea, where he could still discern the
fishing-boats riding at their nets; and the idea of 'Miah out there
thinking of Dorcas made him clench his teeth grimly, as if he had
received a blow.

He swung round on his heels sharply and determinedly, savagely trampling
the ferns beneath his feet, and strode forward into the pitch-black
mirk.

Groping his way in, with hands extended, he presently found the block of
granite called the altar, and "turning the stone" in the hollow on its
surface, he shaped the while in his heart his rancorous prayer to Hate.

Suddenly he was aware of a face staring at him: a mere face vaguely
limned on the darkness, as if a bodiless head were held before him by
the hair.

And in that same instant, without a word being uttered, he felt that he
had looked in the face of Hate.

He reeled out of the fogou like a drunken man.

The vision was one it would be impossible to forget. He must bear with
him this memory, as a man who has committed a murder must bear with him
the memory of his victim's ghastly face.

"I'll wait an' see what comes of it," said 'Lijah to himself, as he ran
and stumbled down the hill-side in the moonlight, the thick hair
stiffening under his cap.

* * * * *

The months slipped by, and the years dragged on sluggishly, and 'Miah
and Dorcas were as happy as ever. They had a couple of bairns to toddle
about their cottage, and 'Miah had been fairly fortunate on the fishery,
so that their lives were generally sunny and enviable to an ext