At eight o'clock the next morning, Guida and her fellow-voyagers, bound for the Ecrehos Rocks, had caught the first ebb of the tide, and with a fair wind from the sou'-west had skirted the coast, ridden lightly over the Banc des Violets, and shaped their course nor'-east.

Guida kept the helm all the way, as she had been promised by Ranulph.

It was still more than half tide when they approached the rocks, and with a fair wind there should be ease in landing.
No more desolate spot might be imagined.

To the left, as you faced towards Jersey, was a long sand-bank.

Between the rocks and the sand-bank shot up a tall, lonely shaft of granite with an evil history.
It had been chosen as the last refuge of safety for the women and children of a shipwrecked vessel, in the belief that high tide would not reach them.