he verge of the rock.

At that instant a man of large stature appeared on one of the rocks
behind him. It was the Quaker. The officer did not see him.

The man paused an instant, his arms at his sides, but with his fists
doubled; and with the eye of a hunter, watching for his prey, he
observed the back of the officer.

Four steps only separated them. He put one foot forward, then stopped;
took a second step, and stopped again. He made no movement except the
act of walking; all the rest of his body was motionless as a statue. His
foot fell upon the tufts of grass without noise. He made a third step,
and paused again. He was almost within reach of the coast-guard, who
stood there still motionless with his telescope. The man brought his two
closed fists to a level with his collar-bone, then struck out his arms
sharply, and his two fists, as if thrown from a sling, struck the
coast-guardman on the two shoulders. The shock was decisive. The
coast-guardman had not the time to utter a cry. He fell head first from
the height of the rock into the sea. His boots appeared in the air about
the time occupied by a flash of lightning. It was like the fall of a
stone in the sea, which instantly closed over him.

Two or three circles widened out upon the dark water.

Nothing remained but the telescope, which had dropped from the hands of
the man, and lay upon the turf.

The Quaker leaned over the edge of the escarpment a moment, watched the
circles vanishing on the water, waited a few minutes, and then rose
again, singing in a low voice:

"The captain of police is dead,
Through having lost his life."

He knelt down a second time. Nothing reappeared. Only at the spot where
the officer had been engulfed, he observed on the surface of the water a
sort of dark spot, which became diffused with the gentle lapping of the
waves. It seemed probable that the coast-guardman had fractured his
skull against some rock under water, and that his blood caused the spot
in the foam. The Quaker, while considering the meaning of this spot,
began to sing again:

"Not very long before he died,
The luckless man was still alive."

He did not finish his song.

He heard an extremely soft voice behind him, which said:

"Is that you, Rantaine? Good-day. You have just killed a man!"

He turned. About fifteen paces behind him, in one of the passages
between the rocks, stood a little man holding a revolver in his hand.

The Quaker ans