"What is the name of that ruin?" he asked.
The man surveyed it doubtfully.
"There ain't any one as rightly knows, sir," he admitted. "Our vicar has looked at the walls, and reckoned it must have been a church."
"Have any Danish trophies ever been found about here?"
The old man smiled.
"You see this field, sir?" he answered. "I've heard my grandfather say that when he used to plow that one day it must have been sown with human bones. There's an old horn mug been found here, too, that they say, from the shape of it, must have belonged to some foreigners. It's in the British Museum in London."
Powers threw him a shilling and turned away with Eleanor.
"You have been here before," he said, in a low tone.
"Never since I came with Ulric," she answered dreamily, "and that must have been a very, very long time ago. There were no houses in those days, nor any fields. Yet the land is the same, the land and the sea. They do not change."
They sat down on a sandy knoll. Powers took her hand in his.