Davis, without doubt, remarked and recognised the figure on the beach; or perhaps hesitated to recognise it; for after he had gazed a long while from under his hand, he went into the house and fetched a glass. It was very powerful; Herrick had often used it. With an instinct of shame, he hid his face in his hands.
'And what brings you here, Mr. Herrick-Hay, or Mr. Hay-Herrick?' asked the voice of Attwater. 'Your back view from my present position is remarkably fine, and I would continue to present it. We can get on very nicely as we are, and if you were to turn round, do you know? I think it would be awkward.'
Herrick slowly rose to his feet; his heart throbbed hard, a hideous excitement shook him, but he was master of himself. Slowly he turned, and faced Attwater and the muzzle of a pointed rifle. 'Why could I not do that last night?' he thought.
'Well, why don't you fire?' he said aloud, with a voice that trembled.
Attwater slowly put his gun under his arm, then his hands in his pockets.
'What brings you here?' he repeated.
'I don't know,' said Herrick; and then, with a cry: 'Can you do anything with me?'
