Not a single person was in the street. Far below, the sea was chafing and tossing--grey green broken into white. The horizon was formless with mist, hanging like thin wool from the heavens down to the face of the waters, against which the wind, which had shifted round considerably towards the north, and blew in quicker-coming and more menacing gusts, appeared powerless. He would have gone to the sands and paced the shore till night-fall, but that he would not expose himself thus to unfriendly eyes and false judgments. He turned to the right instead, and walked along the top of the cliffs eastward. Buffeted by winds without and hurrying fancies within, he wandered on until he came near Colonsay Castle, at sight of which the desire awoke in him to look again on the scene of Lady Florimel’s terror. He crossed the head of the little bay and descended into the heart of the rock. Even there the wind blew dank and howling through all the cavernous hollows. As he approached the last chamber, out of the Devil’s Window flew, with clanging wing, an arrow-barbed sea-gull, down to the grey-veiled tumult below, and the joy of life for a moment seized his soul. But the next, the dismay of that which is forsaken was upon him. It was not that the once lordly structure lay abandoned to the birds and the gusts, but that _she_ would never think of the place without an instant assay at forgetfulness. He turned and re-ascended, feeling like a ghost that had been wandering through the forlorn chambers of an empty skull.