He climbed over the two ridges to the north of
Rackbirds' Cove, and then made his way along the stretch of sand which
extended to the spot where the party had landed when he first reached
this coast. He stopped and looked about him, and then, in fancy, he saw
Edna standing upon the beach, her face pale, her eyes large and
supernaturally dark, and behind her Mrs. Cliff and the boy and the two
negroes. Not until this moment had he felt that he was alone. But now
there came a great desire to speak and be spoken to, and yet that very
morning he had spoken and listened as much as had suited him.
As he walked up the rising ground toward the caves, that ground he had
traversed so often when this place had been, to all intents and purposes,
his home, where there had been voices and movement and life, the sense of
desertion grew upon him--not only desertion of the place, but of himself.
When he had opened his eyes, that morning, his overpowering desire had
been that not an hour of daylight should pass before he should be left
alone, and yet now his heart sank at the feeling that he was here and no
one was with him.
When the captain had approached within a few yards of the great stone
face, his brows were slowly knitted.
"This is carelessness," he said to himself. "I did not expect it of
them. I told them to leave the utensils, but I did not suppose that
they would leave them outside.
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