But careful observation of the square black objects showed him that they
did not move, and anyway they were much too far away to see him. So he
took courage again, and, full of curiosity concerning his hiding-place,
he crept up the southern slope till he reached the ridge of the roof, so
to speak, and lay there looking over, entranced with the beauty of the
scene before him.
The whole east coast of Sark right up to the Burons, off the Creux, lay
basking in the morning light. Dixcart and Derrible held no secrets from
him; he looked straight up their shining beaches. Their bold headlands
were like giant-fists reaching out along the water towards him.
Breniere, the nearest point to his rock, was another mighty grasping
hand, but between it and him swept a furious race of tossing,
white-capped waves, with here and there black fangs of rock which stuck
up through the green waters as though hungering for prey.
He could just see the upper part of the miners' cottages on the cliff
above Rouge Terrier, but, beyond these and the ruined mill on Hog's
Back, not another sign of man and his toilsome, troublesome little
works.
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