of true admiration at the hollowed crags, topped by the gray,
grotesque wood, and crested finally by the three fantastic trees.

"It is like being shipwrecked on the coast of fairyland," he said,

"I hope you haven't been shipwrecked much," replied his host, smiling.
"I fancy Jake here can look after you very well."

Mr. Paynter looked across at the boatman and smiled also.
"I am afraid," he said, "our friend is not quite so enthusiastic
for this landscape as I am."

"Oh, the trees, I suppose!" said the Squire wearily.

The boatman was by normal trade a fisherman; but as his house,
built of black tarred timber, stood right on the foreshore a few yards
from the pier, he was employed in such cases as a sort of ferryman.
He was a big, black-browed youth generally silent, but something
seemed now to sting him into speech.

"Well, sir," he said, "everybody knows it's not natural.
Everybody knows the sea blights trees and beats them under,
when they're only just trees. These things thrive like some
unholy great seaweed that don't belong to the land at all.
It's like the--the blessed sea serpent got on shore, Squire,
and eating everything up."

"There is some stupid legend," said Squire Vane gruffly.
"But come up into the garden; I want to introduce you
to my daughter."