"No; I should think it was harmless; but, father, I tell you its head looked like a person's head."
"Was it a shark with a man stuck in its throat?"
"N—n—no." Not liking to deny this ingenious suggestion too promptly, he feigned to consider it. "It wasn't a dead man's head; it was like a live woman's head."
"I never heard of sharks coming near shore here, any way," added the old man. "What distance was it off—half a mile?"
"It came between me and the little island off which we lost baby Day. It lay half-way between the island and the shore."
The old man was not one to waste words. He did not remark that in that case Caius must have seen the creature clearly, for it went without saying.
"Pity you hadn't my gun," he said.
Caius inwardly shuddered, but because he wished to confide as far as he might, he said outwardly: "I shouldn't have liked to shoot at it; its face looked so awfully human, you know."
"Yes," assented the elder, who had a merciful heart "it's wonderful what a look an animal has in its eyes sometimes." He was slowly shuffling round to the next door with his keys. "Well, I'm sure, my lad, I don't know what it could ha' been, unless 'twas some sort of a porpoise."
"We should be quite certain to know if there was any woman paying a visit hereabout, shouldn't we? A woman couldn't possibly swim across the bay."