For the quicksand lay like a golden barrier between the outer beach and the rocks that led thither.
It was an awesome spot.

Many a splinter of wreckage had been tossed in over the Spear Point as though flung in sport from a giant hand.

And when the water was high there came a hollow groaning from the inner caves as though imprisoned spirits languished there.
But on that night of magic moonlight the only sound was the murmurous splash of the rising waves as they met the first grim rocks of the Point.

Presently they would dash in thunder round the granite blade, and the sleeping pool would be turned to a smother of foam.
On the edge of the pool a woman's figure clad in white stood balanced with outstretched arms.

So still was the water, so splendid the moonlight, that the whole of her light form was mirrored there--a perfect image of nymph-like grace.