radiance; the sound of the music floated over the waves to me, the light
of the colored lamps shone far and wide. I could see the moving mass of
people; here I was almost alone. I saw a gentleman smoking a cigar, I
saw the inevitable lovers, I saw an old man with an iron face, I saw two
young men, almost boys--what had brought them there I could not think.

I reached the pier-head, where the huge lamp had been lighted and shone
like a great brilliant jewel. I sat down; there was no greater pleasure
for me than an evening spent there. At first all was quite still; the
gentleman smoking his cigar walked up and down; the two youths, who had
evidently mistaken the nature of the pier, and considered themselves
greatly injured by the absence of music and company, went away; the old
man sat still for some time, then he left.

I was alone then with the smoker, who troubled himself very little about
me. The coquettish moon threw a wide, laughing gleam around, then
vanished. A whole pile of thick, dark clouds came up from the west and
hid her fair face--by them the thick, soft gloom had deepened into
darkness. I was far from expecting anything tragical as I sat there,
cold and desolate, lonely. As it was, the Chain Pier was more like home
to me than any other spot on earth, because of the one hour I had spent
there.

The wind began to freshen and blow coldly where I sat. I had no motive
in changing my seat, except to escape the sharpness of the breeze. I
crossed to the other side, where the white line of cliffs lay--away from
the brilliant lights of the west pier, hidden behind the wooden
structure erected to shelter those on the pier. I gave myself up to my
dreams.