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Updated: June 5, 2025
Snape; "'tain't good moorin's till ye git half a mile fu'ther round. Ye'll git ashore pretty quick." Under the cool and heavy shadow of the Rock they crept, coming out of it at last into the full glory of the sun's setting. All the west was aflame, and the sea glowed and sparkled like molten gold. Even the wretched little Culm fish-huts looked almost fair and comely in this flood of light.
Noll walked briskly, trying to keep up good heart by whistling and humming snatches of tunes, looking back over his shoulder at the wonderful gleaming of the west, and the queer picture which the fish-huts and the group of idlers made, with the "Gull" lying by the little wharf, her cloud of canvas yet unfurled and its shadow gleaming white as ivory in the depth of water on which she floated.
Somehow, his hitherto blithe spirits were dampened by this morning's walk, and he thought the great bare Rock would be a great deal more endurable if the fish-huts and their inmates were only off it. True, it would be much lonelier, but that was far more endurable than the sight of such shiftlessness and ignorance.
It was late in the afternoon when he went out for his accustomed walk. Partly by accident, partly by design, he came to the little place of graves in the frozen sand, and there found the funeral party from the fish-huts just gathering about the shallow resting-place which had been scooped for Dirk's treasure.
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