nt; the Grey Lady, the Tau
de Pez d'Aval; the Red Lady, the Silleuse, to the north of the Marquis
Bank; and the Black Lady, the Grand Etacre, to the west of Li-Houmet. At
night, when the moon shines, these ladies stalk abroad, and sometimes
meet.

That dark form might undoubtedly be a sail. The long groups of rocks on
which she appeared to be walking, might in fact be concealing the hull
of a bark navigating behind them, and allowing only her sail to be seen.
But the keeper asked himself, what bark would dare, at that hour, to
venture herself between Li-Hou and the Pecheresses, and the Anguillieres
and Leree Point? And what object could she have? It seemed to him much
more probable that it was the Black Lady.

As the moon was passing the clock-tower of St. Peter in the Wood, the
serjeant at Castle Rocquaine, while in the act of raising the drawbridge
of the castle, distinguished at the end of the bay beyond the Haute
Canee, but nearer than the Sambule, a sailing-vessel which seemed to be
steadily dropping down from north to south.

On the southern coast of Guernsey behind Pleinmont, in the curve of a
bay composed entirely of precipices and rocky walls rising peak-shaped
from the sea, there is a singular landing-place, to which a French
gentleman, a resident of the island since 1855, has given the name of
"The Port on the Fourth Floor," a name now generally adopted. This port,
or landing-place, which was then called the Moie, is a rocky plateau
half-formed by nature, half by art, raised about forty feet above the
level of the waves, and communicating with the water by two large beams
laid parallel in the form of an inclined plane. The fishing-vessels are
hoisted up there by chains and pulleys from the sea, and are let down
again in the same way along these beams, which are like two rails. For
the fishermen there is a ladder. The port was, at the time of our story,
much frequented by the smugglers. Being difficult of access, it was well
suited to their purposes.

Towards eleven o'clock, some smugglers--perhaps the same upon whose aid
Clubin had counted--stood with their bales of goods on the summit of
this platform of the Moie. A smuggler is necessarily a man on the look
out, it is part of his business to watch. They were astonished to
perceive a sail suddenly make its appearance beyond the dusky outline of
Cape Pleinmont. It was moonlight. The smugglers observed the sail
narrowly, suspecting that it might be some coa