THREE-ARCH ROCKS as 



them with a soft nasal quack to still their alarm. 

 In the murre colony overhead there was a con- 

 stant stir of feet and a soft, low talk ; and over 

 all the Rock, through all the darkened air, there 

 was the silent coming and going of wings, shadow- 

 wings of the petrel, some of them, that came 

 winnowing in from afar on the sea. 



The drizzle thickened ; the night lengthened. 

 Against my face lay the damp hair of my little 

 son. He was sleeping soundly, the rhythm and 

 rise of the tide in his deep, sweet breathing. The 

 day of danger had brought him very close to me, 

 so near that now I might almost have been the 

 mother that bore him. The quiet deepened. I 

 listened to the wings about me, to the murmur 

 among the birds above me, to the stir of the sea 

 beneath me, to the breathing of the sleeping men 

 beside me, to the pulse of the life enfolding me, 

 of which I was part and heart; and under my 

 body I felt a narrow shelf of rock dividing the 

 waters from the waters. 



The drizzle thickened ; the night lengthened ; 

 and — darkness was upon the face of the deep. 



