It must be above this place that it descended into the earth, and in the hush of dawn the sound was naturally louder.

No wonder old Coetzee had been afraid of devils.

It reminded me of the lines in Marmion-- 'Diving as if condemned to lave Some demon's subterranean cave, Who, prisoned by enchanter's spell, Shakes the dark rock with groan and yell.' While I was standing awestruck at the sound, I observed a figure moving towards the cliffs.

I was well in cover, so I could not have been noticed.

It was a very old man, very tall, but bowed in the shoulders, who was walking slowly with bent head.