forest along the railway, I starting northward, pack slung, rifle over
my shoulder. Once I met a group of quarrymen, faces burned brick-red,
scarred hands swinging as they walked. And, as I passed them with a
nod, turning, I saw that they also had turned to look after me, and I
caught a word or two of their conversation, whirled back to me on the
sea-wind.

They were speaking of the harbor-master.




III


Towards sunset I came out on a sheer granite cliff where the sea-birds
were whirling and clamoring, and the great breakers dashed, rolling in
double-thundered reverberations on the sun-dyed, crimson sands below
the rock.

Across the half-moon of beach towered another cliff, and, behind this,
I saw a column of smoke rising in the still air. It certainly came
from Halyard's chimney, although the opposite cliff prevented me from
seeing the house itself.

I rested a moment to refill my pipe, then resumed rifle and pack, and
cautiously started to skirt the cliffs. I had descended half-way
towards the beech, and was examining the cliff opposite, when
something on the very top of the rock arrested my attention--a man
darkly outlined against the sky. The next moment, however, I knew it