“Le Pont Colliche” was situated about midway between the two others, a little to the eastward of the road which now traverses the Braye. According to tradition, there was once a time when the opening at the “Bougue du Valle”--the channel between the Grand Havre and the Braye--was so small that a faggot, weighted with stone, would have sufficed to stop it. At that time the passage between the islands of Herm and Guernsey was so narrow that a plank laid down at low water enabled the Rector of St. Sampson’s to cross over when his duty called him to perform divine service in the Chapel of St. Tugual. Great quantities of the common cockle (_cardium edule_), locally known by the name of “cocques du Braye,” used to be gathered on the sands at low water. It is said, however, that even before the enclosure of the Braye they had begun to disappear, and their increasing scarcity was attributed to the impiety of an old woman, who, unmindful of the sacred duty of keeping the sabbath holy, was in the habit of searching for these cockles on that day. A similar story is told to account for the rarity of a particular kind of periwinkle (_trochus crassus_) known here by the name of “Cocquelin Brehaut.” A stone, which has evidently served as the socket or base of a cross, and which is said to have come from the Pont Colliche, is still preserved at Les Grandes Capelles. [79] EDITOR’S NOTE.--Of course this was written long before the days of greenhouses and the tomato-growing industry. “THE LOVERS’ LEAP.” “Ah me! for aught that ever I could read, Could ever hear by tale, or history, The course of true love never did run smooth.” The promontory of Pleinmont forms the south-western extremity of the island of Guernsey, and, to the admirer of the wild and rugged beauties of cliff and rock scenery, affords an ever-varying treat. Lofty precipices, in which the sea-birds and hawks nestle--huge masses of granite piled into fantastic forms--covered with grey and orange-coloured lichens, and gay with the flowers of the thrift and other sea-side plants, large rocks detached from the main-land and tenanted by long rows of the sun-loving cormorant, the ever-restless ocean, now smiling and rippling under a summer sky, now lashed into fury by the wintry blast, all combine to add to the charms of this district.