at
least, it seemed to--but the whole episode occurred so suddenly, so
unexpectedly, that I was not sure I had seen anything at all.

However, I was curious enough to climb the cliff on the land side and
make my way towards the spot where I imagined I saw the man. Of
course, there was nothing there--not a trace of a human being, I mean.
Something _had_ been there--a sea-otter, possibly--for the remains of
a freshly killed fish lay on the rock, eaten to the back-bone and
tail.

The next moment, below me, I saw the house, a freshly painted, trim,
flimsy structure, modern, and very much out of harmony with the
splendid savagery surrounding it. It struck a nasty, cheap note in the
noble, gray monotony of headland and sea.

The descent was easy enough. I crossed the crescent beach, hard as
pink marble, and found a little trodden path among the rocks, that led
to the front porch of the house.

There were two people on the porch--I heard their voices before I saw
them--and when I set my foot upon the wooden steps, I saw one of them,
a woman, rise from her chair and step hastily towards me.

"Come back!" cried the other, a man with a smooth-shaven, deeply lined
face, and a pair of angry, blue eyes; and the woman stepped back
quietly, acknowledging my lifted hat with a silent inclination.

The man, who was reclining in an invalid's rolling-chair, clapped both
large, pale hands to the wheels and pushed himself out along the
porch. He had shawls pinned about him, an untidy, drab-colored hat on
his head, and, when he looked down at me, he scowled.

"I know who you are," he said, in his acid voice; "you're one of the
Zoological men from Bronx Park. You look like it, anyway."

"It is easy to recognize you from your reputation," I replied,
irritated at his discourtesy.

"Really," he replied, with something between a sneer and a laugh, "I'm
obliged for your frankness. You're after my great auks, are you not?"

"Nothing else would have tempted me into this place," I replied,
sincerely.

"Thank Heaven for that," he said. "Sit down a moment; you've
interrupted us." Then, turning to the young woman, who wore the neat
gown and tiny cap of a professional nurse, he bade her resume what she
had been saying. She did so, with deprecating glance at me, which made
the old man sneer again.

"It happened so suddenly," she said, in her low voice, "that I had no
chance to get back. The boat was drifting in the cove; I sat in the
stern