The mate, who knew the island but too well, had gone forward, but now returned to us, that is to Tuchet and me, upon the high deck. His face was very white.
"The shore hath sunk," he said.
"What do you mean?" cried Tuchet, turning about sharply.
"Vineyard and all gone; our cottage and the garden where my boys played.... The eagre hath whelmed them."
"But the wave hath long since receded, man; it cannot be! You have mistaken the place belike."
"Mistaken!" repeated the mate with a hard laugh. "I tell you the whole island hath been disturbed; its foundations shaken—Lo, there!" he cried out. "A whole cliff hath gone down in the earthquake; and there is driftwood under the headland, of wrecked ships."
And even as he had said, so it was.
For the late upheaval had had its origin in the recesses of this barren rock, which it had burst open as a robber bursts forth from his ambush, and loosed that charging hurricane upon the sea. And indeed not this island of Tre Torre only, but all these islands to the northward of Sicily be so eaten under by fire, and liable to sudden calamity therefrom, as none may properly be named habitable, though the most of them be inhabited in despite of almost constant threatenings, until, as this place was, they be at length in a night destroyed.
We sailed about the place in our ship, but found no living soul, and night soon after falling, we were fain to use the shattered remnant of the pirates' harbour, where we lay till the morning, very sad and perplexed.
But a great while before full day I rose up alone and went ashore, in the hope to light upon some vestiges of my uncle, or if not of him, then of any of that infamous crew of the Saracen's Head. From the one of the watch-towers that I found to be the least shaken I surveyed the rock over every part, but could discover nothing more than that we had before espied, namely, the few broken boards of a ship and spars strewn about the sweep of ground betwixt the two promontories, and so descended slowly to where they lay. And having descended but a little of the broken path that led, as I judged, to the submerged hamlet amidst the vineyards, I looked out upon the waters of the bay; and on the sudden, clear beneath them, saw the hamlet, house by house, and the pergolas of hanging vines. So translucent and untroubled was the water at that hour that scarce anything the least was hid, but even the grass between the stones I saw, yet fresh and waving, and the rusted tools abandoned in the fields. An untended way led further off to the temple, of which I could dimly perceive the pillars, between which great silver fish swam in and out, and upon its steps the seaweed slightly stirred.