Where is the ship that brought them here?
They came from the sea." "I saw the ship," says Mariet.
The women begin to question her in amazement.
"You?
Why, then, didn't you say anything about it?
Tell us what you know." Mariet maintains silence.

Suddenly one of the women exclaims: "Ah, look! They have lit a lamp.

There is a light in the castle!" On the left, about half a mile away from the village, a faint light flares up, a red little coal in the dark blue of the twilight and the distance.

There upon a high rock, overhanging the sea, stands an ancient castle, a grim heritage of grey and mysterious antiquity.
Long destroyed, long ruined, it blends with the rocks, continuing and delusively ending them by the broken, dented line of its batteries, its shattered roofs, its half-crumbled towers.

Now the rocks and the castle are covered with a smoky shroud of twilight.