of that household. In homely blue
delft cups a dozen or more eggs were ranged beside high stacks of
buttered toast, rich and yellow. The butter, the jugs of yellow cream,
the huge platter heaped with wild raspberries--as each of these met his
eye he was wondering if the sea-maid ever ate such food, or if her diet
was more delicate.

"Am I going mad?" he thought to himself. The suspicion was depressing.

Three hours after, Caius sough his father as the old man was making his
nightly tour of the barns and stables. By way of easing his own sense of
responsibility he had decided to tell his father what he had seen, and
his telling was much like such confession of sins as many people make,
soothing their consciences by an effort that does not adequately reveal
the guilt to the listener.

Caius came up just as his father was locking the stable door.

"Look here, father; wait a minute. I have something to say. I saw a very
curious thing down at the shore to-day, but I don't want you to tell
mother, or Mabel, or the men."

The old man stood gravely expectant. The summer twilight just revealed
the outline of his thin figure and ragged hair and beard.

"It was in the water swimming about, making darts here and there like a
big trout. Its body was brown, and it looked as if it had horny balls
round its neck; and its head, you know, was like a human being's."

"I never heard tell of a fish like that, Caius. Was it a porpoise?"

"Well, I suppose I know what a porpoise is like."

"About how large was it?" said the elder man, abandoning the porpoise
theory.

"I should think about five or six feet long."

"As long as that? Did it look as if it could do any harm?"

"No; I should think it was harmless; but, father, I tell you its head
looked like a person's head."

"Was it a shark with a man stuck in its throat?"

"N--n--no." Not liking to deny this ingenious suggestion too promptly,
he feigned to consider it. "It wasn't a dead man's head; it was like a
live woman's head."

"I never heard of sharks coming near shore here, any way," added the old
man. "What distance was it off--half a mile?"

"It came between me and the little island off which we lost baby Day. It
lay half-way between the island and the shore."

The old man was not one to waste words. He did not remark that in that
case Caius must have seen the creature clearly, for it went without
saying.

"Pity you hadn't my gun," he said.

Caius inwardly shudder