The landing-place of Samson is a flat beach, covered with a fine white sand and strewn with little shells--yellow and grey, green and blue. Behind the beach is a low bank on which grow the sea-holly, the sea-lavender, the horned poppy, and the spurge, and behind the bank stretches a small plain, low and sandy, raised above the high tide by no more than a foot or two. Armorel led the way across this plain to the foot of the northern hill. It is a rough and rugged hill, wild and uncultivated. The slope facing the south is covered with gorse and fern, the latter brown and yellow in September. Among the fern at this season stood the tall dead stalks of foxglove. Here and there were patches of short turf set about with the withered flowers of the sea-pink, and the long branches of the bramble lay trailing over the ground. The hand of some prehistoric giant has sprinkled the slopes of this hill with boulders of granite: they are piled above each other so as to make carns, headlands, and capes with strange resemblances and odd surprises. Upon the top they found a small plateau sloping gently to the north. 'See!' said Armorel. 'This is the finest thing we have to show on Samson, or on any of the islands. This is the burial-place of the kings. Here are their tombs.' 'What kings?' asked Dick, looking about him. 'Where are the tombs?' 'The kings,' Roland repeated; 'there can be no other kings. These are their tombs. Do not interrupt.' 'The ancient kings,' Armorel replied, with historic precision. 'These mounds are their tombs. See--one--two--half a dozen of them are here. Only kings had barrows raised over them. Did you expect graves and headstones, Dick Stephenson?' 'Oh, these are barrows, are they?' he replied, in some confusion. A man of the world does not expect to be caught in ignorance by the solitary inhabitant of a desert island. 'A long time ago,' Armorel went on, 'these islands formed part of the mainland. Bryher and Tresco, St. Helen's, Tean, St. Martin's and St. Mary's, were all joined together, and the road was only a creek of the sea. Then the sea washed away all the land between Scilly and the Land's End. They used to call the place Lyonesse. The kings of Lyonesse were buried on Samson. Their kingdom is gone, but their graves remain. It is said that their ghosts have been seen. Dorcas saw them once.' 'I should like to see them very much,' said Roland. 'If you were here at night, we could go out and look for them. I have been here often after dark looking for them.' 'What did you see?' She answered like unto the bold Sir Bedivere--who, perhaps, was standing on that occasion not far from this hill-top. 'I saw the moonlight on the rocks, and I heard the beating of the waves.' Quoth Dick: 'The spook of a king of Lyonesse would be indeed worth coming out to see.' Armorel led the way to a barrow, the top of which showed signs of the spade. 'See!' she said. 'Here is one that has been opened. It was a long time ago.'