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The place was very silent; only the sea-gulls circled round and round
the summit of the great rock, some of them occasionally swooping down on
the unwary fishes, their keen eyes perceived in the waters beneath, then
up again they soared, swaying their graceful wings and uttering at
intervals that peculiar wild cry that in solitary haunts sounds so
intensely mournful. Errington gazed about him in doubt for some minutes,
then suddenly his face brightened. He sat down again in the boat and
resumed his oar.
"Row quietly, George," he said in a subdued tone "Quietly--round to the
left."
The oars dipped noiselessly, and the boat shot forward,--then swerved
sharply round in the direction,--and there before them lay a small sandy
creek, white and shining as though sprinkled with powdered silver. From
this, a small but strongly-built wooden pier ran out into the sea. It
was carved all over with fantastic figures, and in it at equal
distances, were fastened iron rings, such as are used for the safe
mooring of boats.


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