For some moments, while he had been busied in his task, he had had a confused sense of a singular fluttering in the air.
It resembled, in the silence of the evening, the noise which an immense bat might make with the beating of its wings.
Gilliatt raised his eyes.
A great black circle was revolving over his head in the pale twilight sky.
Such circles are seen in pictures round the heads of saints. These, however, are golden on a dark ground, while the circle around Gilliatt was dark upon a pale ground. The effect was strange. It spread round the Great Douvre like the aureole of night.
The circle drew nearer, then retired; grew narrower, and then spread wide again.
It was an immense flight of gulls, seamews, and cormorants; a vast multitude of affrighted sea birds.
The Great Douvre was probably their lodging, and they were coming to rest for the night. Gilliatt had taken a chamber in their home. It was evident that their unexpected fellow-lodger disturbed them.
A man there was an object they had never beheld before.
Their wild flutter continued for some time.