with the village itself lying snugly
at its further end; so that, standing at the entrance of this curious
arch, one may see the little town, with the purple cliffs behind
framed between walls of glistening serpentine. The rock is always
washed by the sea, except at low water during the spring tides,
though not reaching out so far as Pedn-glas. In colour it is mainly
black as night, but is streaked with red stains that bear an awful
likeness to blood; and, though it may be climbed--and I myself have
done it more than once in search of eggs--it has no scrap of
vegetation save where, upon its summit, the gulls build their nests
on a scanty patch of grass and wild asparagus.

By the time I had crossed the cove, the western sky was brilliant
with the reflected dawn. Above the cliffs behind, morning had edged
the flying wrack of indigo clouds with a glittering line of gold,
while the sea in front still heaved beneath the pale yellow light, as
a child sobs at intervals after the first gust of passion is
over-past. The tide was at the ebb, and the fresh breeze dropped as
I got under the shadow of Dead Man's Rock and looked through the
archway on to Polkimbra Sands.

Not a soul was to be seen. The long stretch of beach had scarcely
yet caught the distinctness of day, but was already beginning to
glisten with the gathering light, and, as far as I could see, was
desolate. I passed through and clambered out towards the south side
of the rock to watch the sea, if perchance some bit of floating
wreckage might explain the mystery of last night. I could see
nothing.

Stay! What was that on the ledge below me, lying on the brink just
above the receding wave? A sailor's cap! Somehow, the sight made me
sick with horror. It must have been a full minute before I dared to
open my eyes and look again. Yes, it was there! The cry of last
night rang again in my ears with all its supreme agony as I stood in
the presence of this silent witness of the dead--this rag of clothing
that told so terrible a history.

Child as I was, the silent terror of it made me faint and giddy.
I shut my eyes again, and clung, all trembling, to the ledge.
Not for untold bribes could I have gone down and touched that
terrible thing, but, as soon as the first spasm of fear was over, I
clambered desperately back and on to the sands again, as though all
the souls of the drowned were pursuing me.

Once safe upon the beach, I recovered my scattered wit