off, and it angered them when the waves struck them,
and they roared aloud, and by and by they began to go away, some
disappearing beneath the water, others with heads above the surface
swimming away out into the open sea, until all were gone. Martin was
sorry to lose them, but the sight of the sea tumbling and foaming on
the rocks still held him there, until all the rocks but one had been
covered by the waters, and this one was a great black jagged rock
close to the shore, not above twenty or thirty yards from him.
Against this mass of rock the waves continued to dash themselves
with a mighty noise, sending up a cloud of white foam and spray at
every blow. The sight and sound fascinated him. The sea appeared to
be talking, whispering, and murmuring, and crying out aloud to him in
such a manner that he actually began trying to make out what it was
saying. Then up would come a great green wave rushing and moaning,
to dash itself to pieces right before his face; and each time it
broke against the rock, and rose high up it took a fantastic shape
that began to look more and more the shape of a man. Yes, it was
unmistakably like a monstrous grey old man, with a vast snow-white
beard, and a world of disordered white hair floating over and around
its head. At all events it was white for a moment, then it looked
green--a great green beard which the old man took with his two hands
and twisted just as a washerwoman twists a blanket or counterpane,
so as to wring the water out of it.

Martin stared at this strange uncouth visitor from the sea; while he
in turn, leaning over the rock, stared back into Martin's face with
his immense fishy eyes.

Every time a fresh wave broke over him, lifting up his hair and
garments, which were of brown seaweed and all rags and tatters, it
seemed to annoy him somewhat; but he never stirred; and when the
wave retired he would wring the water out once more and blow a cloud
of sea-spray from his beard. At length, holding out his mighty arms
towards Martin, he opened his great, cod-fish mouth, and burst into
a hoarse laugh, which sounded like the deep laughter-like cries of
the big, black-backed gulls. Still, Martin did not feel at all
afraid of him, for he looked good-natured and friendly.

"Who are you?" shouted Martin at last.

"Who be I?" returned the man-shaped monster in a hoarse, sea-like
voice. "Ho, ho, ho,--now I calls that a good un! Why, little Martin,
that I've knowed all along, I be