Be that as it may, one night she crept out of the pool and followed the banks of the wet ditch by which it escapes, making for the river. It must have been a queer sight to see her as she went, with her wet garments clinging round her, running down the fields; I always used to fancy when I was a boy how she would look from side to side, afraid of being seen, and how she would stop here and there to listen for the sea. She reached the marshes and ran out till she felt the incoming tide about her feet. The steeple of the town and its lights were strange to her, but long before she got near them, the water was deep, and she swam under the bridge and out through the shipping in the harbour till she heard the surf and saw the white line over the bar. Outside the sea was thundering and booming, and the salt spray flew in her face, for a rough night was setting in. Farther and farther she swam, and soon she felt the current running strong with her towards the cliffs that stand miles out and look towards Denmark. The gulls came swooping over her, but she did not care; she had seen them at times screaming behind the plough in the fields round the mill. But, as the wind rose and the waves lifted her up and tossed her, she grew frightened; for all she knew of waters was the stillness of the pool. The storm was louder as night went on, and by morning she was so much buffeted about that she lay floating among the seaweed. She had no strength left to go one way or another, and at last she was cast up on a bit of sandy shore and sat under the cliffs wondering what to do, for the place was strange and she was afraid of all the world. A track wound upwards, so she followed it till it brought her out high above the sands. The size of the sea bewildered her and she gazed about for some place in which to hide. Close by was a little circle of tumble-down wall; she looked over it into a tangle of weeds, and saw what seemed to her the strangest thing of all, for she did not know it was a deserted graveyard. If she had she would have been no wiser. The crosses leaned sideways out of the rank thistles and hemlock. Some of the stones lay flat, with only their carved corners sticking out and some had the shape of tables; some were no more than broken pieces. But one of the graves had once been a very grand place, with a little building over it to shelter the stone; its roof was battered in, but it had a helmet and strange words cut above the doorway. The Nix made her way to it through the hemlock; in she went and crouched against its farthest corner. It was the quietest spot she had seen. She was so weary that she did not know what to do, and the sun dazzled her, for it was growing strong and she was accustomed to dark places.