Several
land-slips were visible from this post of observation. The village was
out of sight, tucked away behind a great shoulder of cliff; but an old
ruined cottage that had been uninhabited for some time had entirely
disappeared. Stacks of seaweed had been thrown up upon the deserted
shore, and lay in great masses above the breakers. The roar of the
incoming tide was like the continuous roll of thunder.
It was a splendid spectacle and for some time he stood, with his face
to the driving wind, gazing out upon the empty sea. There was not a
single vessel in all that wide expanse.
Slowly at last his vision narrowed. His eyes came down to the great
gash at his feet where red earth and tufts of grass mingled, where
the daisies had grown on that June day, where she had sat, proud and
aloof, and watched him fooling with the white petals. Very vividly
he recalled that summer afternoon, her scorn of him, her bitter
hostility--and the horror he had surprised in her dark eyes when the
hawk had struck. He laughed oddly to himself, his teeth clenched upon
his lower lip. How furiously she had hated him that day!
He turned to go; but paused, arrested by some instinct that bade
him cast one more look downwards along the howling shore. In another
moment he was lying full length upon the rotten ground, staring
intently down upon the group of rocks more than two hundred feet below
him.
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