By the light of the moon something caught his eye far below—­something white and small, showing distinctly against the black glistening base of the Moon Rock.  He could not discern what it was, but a nameless terror seized him, and his jaw dropped as he crouched there, gazing.  Then he scrambled to his feet with a wild cry, and made for the path down the cliffs to the pool.  It was some distance from where he was, but there was no shorter way.  He rushed recklessly along the cliff edge till he reached it, and climbed down.

It was there he found her.

She was lying limp and motionless on the edge of the pool, and the receding tide was still lapping over the shelf of the rock where the sea had flung her.

Thalassa dropped on his knees beside her.  “Sisily, Sisily!” he cried hoarsely—­“It’s me—­Thalassa!”

He stooped over her, calling her repeatedly, but she did not reply.  Her face showed still and white in the moonlight.  He unfastened the front of her dress, and put his hard hand on her soft flesh, but he could not feel her heart beating.  He lifted her tenderly in his arms, and she lay against his body inert and cold, her wet head resting on his shoulder.  Thus he started the ascent of the cliff.

A giant’s strength still lurked in his ageing frame.  It was well for him that it did.  He had only his feet to depend upon in that long slippery ascent, and the wind tugged at him angrily, as if anxious to jerk him off the path into the sea.  But he fought his way up with his burden, though his body was swaying and his head was dizzy when he reached the top.

He did not stop for a moment.  Still holding her fast he set out, not for Flint House, but to the churchtown.  Dizzy, panting, and staggering, he struggled on across the moors, and as he walked he listened anxiously for any sound from the inanimate form in his arms.

But she lay still and motionless against his breast.

On he went until he reached the churchtown, and made his way up the empty street to Dr. Ravenshaw’s house.  He turned in the garden gate, and beat with his heavy boot against the closed door.

CHAPTER XXXIII

Some one stirred within, and a ray of light in the fanlight grew bright as footsteps in the passage drew near.  The door opened, and showed the figure of Dr. Ravenshaw holding in his hand a lighted lamp which shone upon Thalassa and the dripping figure in his arms.  The doctor looked down from the doorstep in silent surprise, then stepped quickly back from the threshold and opened the surgery door, holding the lamp high to guide Thalassa in.

“There—­on the couch,” he said, placing the lamp on the table.  “What has happened?”

“Miss Sisily fell over the cliffs by the Moon Rock.  I found her and carried her up, and brought her straight here.”

The doctor’s quick glance was a professional tribute to the strength of a frame capable of performing such a feat.  He turned his attention to Sisily, bending over her and feeling her pulse.  With a sharp exclamation he dropped her wrist and tore open the front of her dress, placing his hand on her heart.  With his other hand he took up his stethoscope from the table.