the hill. I looked and listened, but nothing could
be seen or heard; no blue light, nor indeed any light at all; no cry,
nor gun, nor signal of distress--nothing but the howling of the wind
as it swept up from the sea, the thundering of the surf upon the
beach below; and all around, black darkness and impenetrable night.
The blast caught the lattice from my hand as I closed the window, and
banged it furiously. I turned to look at my mother. She had fallen
forward on her knees, with her arms flung across the bed, speechless
and motionless, in such sort that I speedily grew possessed with an
awful fear lest she should be dead. As it was, I could do nothing
but call her name and try to raise the dear head that hung so heavily
down. Remember that I was at this time not eight years old, and had
never before seen a fainting fit, so that if a sight so like to death
bewildered me it was but natural. How long the fit lasted I cannot
say, but at last, to my great joy, my mother raised her head and
looked at me with a puzzled stare that gradually froze again to
horror as recollection came back.

"Oh, Jasper, what could it be?--what could it be?"

Alas! I knew not, and yet seemed to know too well. The cry still
rang in my ears and clamoured at my heart; while all the time a dull
sense told me that it must have been a dream, and a dull desire bade
me believe it so.

"Jasper, tell me--it cannot have been--"

She stopped as our eyes met, and the terrible suspicion grew and
mastered us, numbing, freezing, paralysing the life within us.
I tried to answer, but turned my head away. My mother sank once more
upon her knees, weeping, praying, despairing, wailing, while the
storm outside continued to moan and sob its passionate litany.

CHAPTER III.

TELLS OF TWO STRANGE MEN THAT WATCHED THE SEA UPON POLKIMBRA BEACH.

Morning came at last, and with the first grey light the storm had
spent its fury. By degrees my mother had grown calmer, and was now
sleeping peacefully upon her bed, worn out with the passion of her
terror. I had long ago dressed; but even had I wished to sleep
again, curiosity to know the meaning of that awful cry would have
been too strong for me. So, as soon as I saw that my mother was
asleep, I took my boots in my hand and crept downstairs. The kitchen
looked so ghostly in the dim light, that I had almost resolved to
give up my plan and go back, but reflected that it behoved me to play
the man, i