I urged him to a gallop.

We flew round the bay.

The village on the headland took shape rapidly--a few cube-shaped, whitewashed houses perched amid what seemed at first to be great rocks, but on a close approach revealed themselves as blocks of masonry, the ruins of some city of antiquity.
From time to time a jet of spray shot up above them, white as lilies in the gloom.

The sea was rising.

I discerned an ancient gateway opening on the beach, and set my horse towards it, while the rain came down in sheets.