"I hardly know how to say it, Father," said Bridget, "but a strange and
evil thing has befallen us; there is something come to our house, and we
know not what it is--but it brings a fear with it." A sudden paleness
came over her face, and she stopped, and the three exchanged a glance in
which terror was visibly written. Master Grimston looked over his
shoulder swiftly, and made as though to speak, yet only swallowed in his
throat; but Henry said suddenly, in a loud and woeful voice: "It is an
evil beast out of the sea." And then there followed a dreadful silence,
while Father Thomas felt a sudden fear leap up in his heart, at the
contagion of the fear that he saw written on the faces round him. But he
said with all the cheerfulness he could muster, "Come, friends, let us
not begin to talk of sea-beasts; we must have the whole tale Mistress
Grimston, I must hear the story--be content--nothing can touch us here."
The three seemed to draw a faint content from his words, and Bridget
began:--

"It was the day of the wreck, Father. John was up betimes, before the
dawn; he walked out early to the sands, and Henry with him--and they
were the first to see the wreck--was not that it?" At these words the
father and son seemed to exchange a very swift and secret look, and both
grew pale. "John told me there was a wreck ashore, and they went
presently and roused the rest of the village; and all that day they were
out, saving what could be saved. Two sailors were found, both dead and
pitifully battered by the sea, and they were buried, as you know,
Father, in the churchyard next day; John came back about dusk and Henry
with him, and we sate down to our supper. John was telling me about the
wreck, as we sate beside the fire, when Henry, who was sitting apart,
rose up and cried out suddenly, 'What is that?'"

She paused for a moment, and Henry, who sate with face blanched, staring
at his mother, said, "Ay, did I--it ran past me suddenly." "Yes, but
what was it?" said Father Thomas trying to smile; "a dog or cat,
methinks." "It was a beast," said Henry slowly, in a trembling voice--"a
beast about the bigness of a goat. I never saw the like--yet I did not
see it clear; I but felt the air blow, and caught a whiff of it--it was
salt like the sea, but with a kind of dead smell behind." "Was that all
you saw?" said Father Thomas; "belike you were tired and faint, and the
air swam round you suddenly--I have known the like myself when weary