They never recovered his body. There is a strong current at this point.
That's so, isn't it, Antonio?"

"That so, gentlemens. Drink branty all the time, both of them. But
little one--everybody smile at him. Pretty boy. Swim and dive, something
lovely. One evening both get drunk and walk along the edge of cliff up
there. Then little one, he say: I good diver, eh, what, friend? Big one
say: You dive prettier than dolphin.--What bet, over cliff here,
now?--Six bottle branty.--Done! Clothes off, over he go, like a sea-bird.
All finished. That so, gentlemens. Next morning they bring clothes to
big one into house. Big one, when he wake up and see clothes lying
there, with no friend inside, he very angry with servants and everybody
else, and drink no more branty for three days. Dam-fool foreigners."

"That's a tragedy, anyhow," said the bishop.

"You are right. It is quite artistic--that touch about bringing back the
clothes, the empty shell, next morning. Quite artistic."

Mr. Heard looked up at the crag. It made him dizzy to picture some
human body hurtling through the air from that awful height. Its surface
was of perfect smoothness. But what struck him even more was the
uncommon and almost menacing coloration. The rock was bluish black,
spattered with maculations of a ruddy sanguine tint, as though drops of
blood had oozed out, in places, from its stony heart.

"I remember Mrs. Meadows telling me that story," he said to Keith.
"Isn't her villa at the back?"

"The very place. By the way, when next you call, would you please say