the ground,
but the sun rose strong and unclouded, the whiteness vanished, and
there remained only a pleasant dampness which made sod and sand firm
yet springy to the foot. As the day wore on, the air became more amiable
still, and a delicate haze settled over the water and over the land,
making softer to the eye house and hill and rock and sea.

There was little life in the town of St. Heliers, there were few people
upon the beach; though now and then some one who had been praying beside
a grave in the parish churchyard came to the railings and looked out
upon the calm sea almost washing its foundations, and over the dark
range of 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 running th