rocks, which, when the tide was out, showed like a vast gridiron
blackened by fires. Near by, some loitering sailors watched the yawl-
rigged fishing craft from Holland, and the codfish-smelling cul-de-poule
schooners of the great fishing company which exploited the far-off fields
of Gaspe in Canada.

St. Heliers lay in St. Aubin's Bay, which, shaped like a horseshoe, had
Noirmont Point for one end of the segment and the lofty Town Hill for
another. At the foot of this hill, hugging it close, straggled the town.
From the bare green promontory above might be seen two-thirds of the
south coast of the island--to the right St. Aubin's Bay, to the left
Greve d'Azette, with its fields of volcanic-looking rocks, and St.
Clement's Bay beyond. Than this no better place for a watchtower could
be found; a perfect spot for the reflective idler and for the sailorman
who, on land, must still be within smell and sound of the sea, and loves
that place best which gives him widest prospect.

This day a solitary figure was pacing backwards and forwards upon the
cliff edge, stopping now to turn a telescope upon the water and now upon
the town. It was a lad of not more than sixteen years, erect, well-
poised, having an air of self-reliance, even of command. Yet it was a
boyish figure too, and the face was very young, save for the eyes; these
were frank but still sophisticated.

The first time he looked towards the town he laughed outright, freely,
spontaneously; threw his head back with merriment, and then glued his eye
to the glass again. What he had seen was a girl of about five years of
age with a man, in La Rue d'Egypte, near the old prison, even then called
the Vier Prison. Stooping, the man had kissed the child, and she,
indignant, snatching the cap from his head, had thrown it into the stream