you describe?" asked
Desbra, as they neared the McIntyre home. Jessie's story had interested
him keenly. He was charmed with the tale as constituting at least a
notable bit of folk-lore.

"Of course I've seen it," replied Jessie, almost petulantly. "I dare say
I can show it to you now. Let us go to the top of the hill yonder, where
that old poplar stands up all by itself. That tree is a relic of the
Acadians, and the 'Eye' watches it, I fancy, when it has nothing better
to look at!"

When the lovers reached the hill-top and paused beside the ancient and
decaying poplar, the sun had just gone down behind North Mountain, and a
sombre splendor flooded the giant brow of Blomidon. The girl pointed
toward the mouth of the creek. Desbra could not restrain a cry of
astonishment. From just inside the dike, in a deep belt of olive shadow,
came a pale, fine violet ray, unwavering and inexplicable. Presently he
remarked:--

"That is a fine gem of yours, my dear; and if _I_ owned such a treasure
I shouldn't leave it lying around in that careless fashion. Who knows
what might happen to it, away down there on the New Marsh? What if a
gull, now, should come along and swallow it, to help him grind his fish
bones."

"Don't be silly, Jack!" said the girl, her eyes dilating as she watched
the mystic beam. "You know you don't half like the look of it yourself.
It makes you feel uncanny, and you're just talking nonsense to make
believe you don't think there is anything queer about it!"

"Quite the contrary, I assure you, O Mistress of the Witch Stone, O
Cynosure of the 'Eye of Gluskap!'" answered Desbra. "I am, indeed, so
much impressed that I was taking pains to remind the Powers of the
transfer I have just effected! I desire to hide me from the 'Eye of
Gluskap' by taking refuge behind a certain little spinster's
petticoats!"

There was a long silence, while Desbra kept gazing on the mystic gleam
as if fascinated. At last Jessie made a move as if she thought it time
to return to the house, whereupon the young man, waking out of his fit
of abstraction, said slowly:--

"Do you know, it seems to me now as if you had been telling me an old
story. I feel as if you had merely recalled to my memory incidents which
I had long forgotten. I remember it all now, with much that I think you
did not tell me. Looking at that strange point of light I have
seen,--_did_ you tell me anything of an old man dying in a boat and
being brought to shore j