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Oxenham, John, 1852-1941

"A Maid of the Silver Sea"


And every now and again there came, from somewhere beyond, a low dull
thud, like the blow of a padded hammer, and a distant subdued rustle
along the outside of the darkness. He knew it was not inside the place
he was in, for he could hear the soft rise and fall of the water quite
clearly, but these other sounds came to him from a distance, muted as
though his ears had suddenly gone deaf.
"Those dull blows," he said to himself, "are the waves on the outside of
L'Etat. That low rustling is the rush of them along the lower rocks. The
water inside here probably comes in through some openings below
tide-level. I am quite safe here, even if they get past the dead man's
cave--quite safe until I starve. Unless there are fish to be had"--and
he felt a spark of hope. "And maybe there are devil-fish"--and he
shivered and glanced below and about him fearfully.
His homely torch did no more than faintly illumine the rock he sat on
and those close at hand, and cast a gigantic uncouth shadow of himself
on the rough wall behind. All beyond was solid darkness, blacker even
than a black Sark night.


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