f this new reef. It was irregular in form, thirty or forty yards
wide in one part and a hundred or even two hundred in another; and it
ran on like a continuous embankment, following more or less closely
the old line of the cliffs.

Simon did not hesitate. He set out. The hilly, uneven surface, at
first interspersed with pools of water and bristling with rocks which
the stubborn labours of the sea had pushed thus far, became gradually
flatter; and Simon was able to walk at a fair pace, though hampered by
a multitude of objects, often half-buried in the ground, which the
waves, not affecting the bottom of the sea, had been unable to sweep
away: meat-tins, old buckets, scrap-iron, shapeless utensils of all
kinds covered with sea-weed and encrusted with little shells.

A few minutes later, he perceived Dieppe lying on his right, a scene
of desolation which he divined rather than saw. The light of
conflagrations not wholly extinguished reddened the sky; and the town
looked to him like an unhappy city in which a horde of barbarians had
sat encamped for weeks on end. The earth had merely shuddered and an
even more stupendous disaster had ensued.

At this moment, a fine tracery of grey clouds spread above the great
black banks which were driving before the gale; and the moon
disappeared. Simon felt irresolute. Since all the light-houses were
demolished, how would he find his way if the darkness increased? He
thought of his father, who was perhaps anxious, but he thought
also--and more ardently--of his distant bride whom he had to win; and,
as the idea of this conquest was blended in his mind--he could not
have said why--with visions of dangers accepted and with extraordinary
happenings, he felt vaguely that he would be right in going on. To go
on meant travelling towards something formidable and unknown. The soil
which had risen from the depths might sink again. The waves might
reconqueror the lost ground and cut off all retreat. An unfathomable
gulf might yawn beneath his footsteps. To go on was madness.

And he went on.

CHAPTER V

VIRGIN SOIL

It was hardly later than one o'clock in the morning. The storm was
less furious and the squalls had ceased, so that Simon suddenly began
to walk as quickly as the trifling obstacles over which he stumbled
and the dim light of the sky would permit. For that matter, if he
branched off too far in either direction, the nearer sound of the
waves would serve as a warning.