building and standing on a mound he could see the interior as far down
as the platform level. Avice's turn, or second turn, came on almost
immediately. Her pretty embarrassment on facing the audience rather
won him away from his doubts. She was, in truth, what is called a
'nice' girl; attractive, certainly, but above all things nice--one of
the class with whom the risks of matrimony approximate most nearly to
zero. Her intelligent eyes, her broad forehead, her thoughtful
carriage, ensured one thing, that of all the girls he had known he had
never met one with more charming and solid qualities than Avice Caro's.
This was not a mere conjecture--he had known her long and thoroughly;
her every mood and temper.

A heavy wagon passing without drowned her small soft voice for him; but
the audience were pleased, and she blushed at their applause. He now
took his station at the door, and when the people had done pouring out
he found her within awaiting him.

They climbed homeward slowly by the Old Road, Pierston dragging himself
up the steep by the wayside hand-rail and pulling Avice after him upon
his arm. At the top they turned and stood still. To the left of them
the sky was streaked like a fan with the lighthouse rays, and under
their front, at periods of a quarter of a minute, there arose a deep,
hollow stroke like the single beat of a drum, the intervals being
filled with a long-drawn rattling, as of bones between huge canine
jaws. It came from the vast concave of Deadman's Bay, rising and
falling against the pebble dyke.

The evening and night winds here were, to Pierston's mind, charged with
a something that did not burden them elsewhere. They brought it up
from that sinister Bay to the west, whose movement she and he were