“We left the port early in the morning, and in the face of the mist. What is the matter with the tide?” said Hartwell.
“You have not been on the beach? Why, 'tis a marvel, gentlemen,” cried the officer. “The like has not been seen since I took up my appointment in this neighbourhood—a tide so high that the caves are flooded to the roof. List, sirs; you can hear naught of the usual boom of the waters when the pressed air forces them back.”
They listened, but although there was the usual noise of the waves breaking along the coast, the boom from the caves which had been heard at intervals through the mist was now silent.
“As a rule 'tis at high tide that the sound is loudest,” said Hartwell.
“That is so,” said the officer. “The higher the water is, the more the air in the caves becomes pressed, and so the louder is the explosion. But this day the water has filled the caves to the roof, leaving no air in their depths to bellow. One of my men, on his patrol an hour ago, was overtaken by the tide at the foot of the cliffs at a place high above spring tide mark. He had to climb to safety. He did so only with difficulty. Had he been at Nitlisaye, nothing would have saved him.”
“What, are Nithsaye sands flooded? Impossible,” cried Hartwell.
“Flooded up to Tor, sir. I tell you the thing is a marvel!”
“All the more so, since there is no wind to add to the force of the tide,” said Wesley.
“True, sir; there was a strong breeze in the early morning that swept the sea-mist over the shore; but there has not been a capful since,” said the officer.
“But see the waves! Are they the effects of the early wind, think you, sir?” asked Wesley.