CHAPTER I.
HOW TWO LAY IN A CLEFT A girl and a boy lay in a cubby-hole in the north side of the cliff overlooking Port Gorey, and watched the goings-on down below.
The sun was tending towards Guernsey and the gulf was filled witn golden light.

A small brig, unkempt and dirty, was nosing towards the rough wooden landing-stage clamped to the opposite rocks, as though doubtful of the advisability of attempting its closer acquaintance.
"Mon Gyu, Bern, how I wish they were all at the bottom of the sea!" said the girl vehemently.
"Whe--e--e--w!" whistled the boy, and then with a twinkle in his eye,--"Who's got a new parasol now ?" "Everybody!--but it's not that.

It's the bustle--and the dirt--and the noise--and oh--everything! You can't remember what it was like before these wretched mines came--no dust, no noise, no bustle, no dirty men, no silly women, no nothing as it is now.

Just Sark as it used to be.

And now--! Mon Gyu, yes I wish the sea would break in through their nasty tunnels and wash them all away--pumps and engines and houses--everything!" And up on the hillside at the head of the gulf the great pumping-engine clacked monotonously "Never! Never! Never!" "You've got it bad to-day, Nan," said the boy.
"I've always got it bad.