'Yes,' I said, 'but now - on the pavement…' The words died away in my throat. I knew - I knew that he wouldn't see what I was seeing.

'I got up and with shaking hands began to put my things together. As I did so the young man who had come in the car that morning came out of the inn door. He looked up and down the street perplexedly. On the balcony above his wife came out and collected the bathing things. He walked down toward the car but suddenly swerved and came across the road toward the fisherman.

'Tell me, my man,' he said, 'you don't know whether that lady who came in that second car there has got back yet?'

'Lady in a dress with flowers all over it? No, sir, I haven't seen her. She went along the cliff toward the cave this morning.'

'I know, I know. We all bathed there together, and then she left us to walk home and I have not seen her since. It can't have taken her all this time. The cliffs round here are not dangerous, are they?'

'It depends, sir, on the way you go. The best way is to take a man who knows the place with you.'

'He very clearly meant himself and was beginning to enlarge on the theme, but the young man cut him short unceremoniously and ran back toward the inn, calling up to his wife on the balcony.

'I say, Margery, Carol hasn't come back yet. Odd, isn't it?'

'I didn't hear Margery's reply, but her husband went on. 'Well, we can't wait any longer. We have got to push on to Penrithar. Are you ready? I will turn the car.'

'He did as he had said, and presently the two of them drove off together. Meanwhile, I had deliberately been nerving myself to prove how ridiculous my fancies were. When the car had gone I went over to the inn and examined the pavement closely. Of course there were no bloodstains there. No, all along it had been the result of my distorted imagination. Yet, somehow, it seemed to make the thing more frightening. It was while I was standing there that I heard the fisherman's voice.