experience, that we were all a little scared. What could this
strange being want with a fire at half-past eight of an April
Sabbath night on the Dyve Burn sands? We discussed the
thing in whispers behind a boulder, but none of us had any
solution. 'Belike he's come ashore in a boat,' said Archie. 'He's
maybe a foreigner.' But I pointed out that, from the tracks
which Archie himself had found, the man must have come
overland down the cliffs. Tam was clear he was a madman,
and was for withdrawing promptly from the whole business.

But some spell kept our feet tied there in that silent world of
sand and moon and sea. I remember looking back and seeing
the solemn, frowning faces of the cliffs, and feeling somehow
shut in with this unknown being in a strange union. What kind
of errand had brought this interloper into our territory? For a
wonder I was less afraid than curious. I wanted to get to the
heart of the matter, and to discover what the man was up to
with his fire and his circles.

The same thought must have been in Archie's head, for he
dropped on his belly and began to crawl softly seawards. I
followed, and Tam, with sundry complaints, crept after my
heels. Between the cliffs and the fire lay some sixty yards of
debris and boulders above the level of all but the high spring
tides. Beyond lay a string of seaweedy pools and then the hard
sands of the burnfoot. There was excellent cover among the
big stones, and apart from the distance and the dim light, the
man by the fire was too preoccupied in his task to keep much
look-out towards the land. I remember thinking he had chosen
his place well, for save from the sea he could not be seen. The