E-text prepared by Steven Gibbs, Irma Spehar,
and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
A LOOSE END
AND OTHER STORIES
BY
S. ELIZABETH HALL
Author of "The Interloper"
London:
SIMPKIN, MARSHALL HAMILTON, KENT & Co., Ltd.
LONDON: TRUSLOVE AND BRAY, PRINTERS, WEST NORWOOD, S.E.
CONTENTS.
| PAGE | |
| A Loose End | 1 |
| In a Breton Village | 19 |
| Twice a Child | 45 |
| The Road by the Sea | 59 |
| The Halting Step | 79 |
| Tabitha's Aunt | 99 |
A LOOSE END.
Chapter I.
ne September morning, many years ago, when the Channel Islands seemedfurther off than they do now, and for some of them communication withthe outer world hardly existed, some two hours after the sun had risenout of the sea, and while the grass and the low-growing bushes werestill fresh with the morning dew, a young girl tripped lightly along theridge of a headland which formed the south side of a cove on the coastof one of the smaller islands in the group. The ridge ascended graduallytill it reached a point on which stood a ruined building, that was saidto have been once a mill, and from which on the right-hand side the pathbegan to descend to a narrow landing-place in the cove. The girl stoodstill for a moment when she reached the highest point, and shading hereyes looked out to sea. On the opposite side of the cove a huge rock,formed into an island by a narrow shaft of water, which in the strife ofages had cleared its way between it and the rocky coast, frowned darkand solemn in the shadow, its steep and clear-cut sides giving it acharacter of power and imperturbability that crowned it a king amongislands. The sea beyond was glittering in the morning sun, but there wasdeep purple shadow in the cove, and under the rocks of the projectingheadlands, which in fantastic succession on either side threw out theirweird arms into the sea; while just around the edge of the shore, wherethe water was shallow over rocks and weed, was a girdle of lightest,loveliest green. Guernsey, idealized in the morning mist, lay like adream on the horizon. Here and there a fishing-boat, whose sail flashedorange when the sun touched it, was tossing on the waves; nearer in aboat with furled sail was cautiously making for the narrow passage—theDevil's Drift, as the fishermen called it—between the island and thema