They were now in a small and sheltered bay, the stillness of which was so intense that they could distinctly hear the murmur of some mountain burn. On the face of the hill rising from the sea there were certain darker patches—perhaps these were birch-woods: also down by the shore there were spaces of deeper gloom—these might be clumps of trees. No light was visible anywhere: this part of the coast was clearly uninhabited, or else the people were asleep. And yet, before venturing nearer, they ceased rowing altogether; and watched; and listened. Not a sound: save for that continuous murmur of the stream, that at times became remote, and then grew more distinct again—as some wandering breath of wind passed across the face of the hill. The world around them lay in a trance as deep as death: the bark of a dog, the call of a heron, would have been a startling thing. Meanwhile two of the oars had been stealthily shipped; the remaining two were sufficient to paddle the boat nearer to the rocks, when that might be deemed safe. And at last the steersman, who appeared to be in command, gave the word. As gently as might be, the boat was headed in for the shore, until Coinneach, who was up at the bow, whispered "That’ll do now;" the rowing ceased; there was a pause, and some further anxious scrutinising of that amorphous gloom; then two black figures stepped over the side into the water, taking with them the lug-line of the net that was carefully arranged in the stern. They were almost immediately lost sight of; for the boat was again noiselessly paddled away, until the full length of the line was exhausted; while he in the stern began to pay out the net—each cork float that dropped into the water sending a shower of tremulous white stars spreading from it, and all the meshes shivering in silver as they were straightened out. A wonderful sight it was; but not the most likely to procure a good fishing; for, of course, that quivering, lustrous, far-extended web would be visible at some little distance. However, out went the net easily and steadily—with just the faintest possible "swish" as each successive armful soused into the sea; and then, as quick as was consistent with silence, the boat was pulled ashore, and two of the men jumped out with the other lug-line. They, too, vanished in the impenetrable dusk. The solitary occupant of the mysterious craft, standing up at the bow, was now left to watch the result of these operations and to direct, in low and eager whispers, his unseen comrades. Slowly, slowly the semicircular net was being hauled in; as it got nearer and nearer the men at the lug-lines splashed the water with them, so as to frighten the fish into the meshes; the sea glimmered nebulous in white fire; here and there a larger star burned clear on the black surface for a moment, and then gradually faded away. The commotion increased—in the water and out of it; it was evident from