among his broken goods, staring out over the valley. The country
people always said that the hill was a fairy hill. They believed that
the pixies went to dance there whenever the moon was full. I never saw
the pixies myself, but somehow I always felt that the hill was
uncanny. I never passed it at night if I could avoid it.

Now, when I looked up, as I stood with Hugh watching the dog, I saw
something flash upon the top of the barrow. In that bright sun, with
all the snow about, many things were sparkling; but this thing gleamed
like lightning, suddenly, and then flashed again. Looking at it
sharply, I saw that there was a man upon the barrow top, apparently
lying down upon the snow. He had something in his hand turned to the
sun, a piece of glass perhaps, or a tin plate, some very bright thing,
which flashed. He flashed it three times quickly, then paused, then
flashed it again. He seemed to be looking intently across the valley
to the top of the combe beyond, to the very place where the road from
Salcombe swings round to the dip. Looking in that direction, I saw the
figure of a man standing on the top of the wall against a stunted
holly-tree at the curve of the road. I had to look intently to see him
at all, for he was in dark clothes, which shaded off unnoticed against
the leaves of the holly. I saw him jump down now and again, and
disappear round the curve of the road as though to look for
something. Then he would run back and flash some bright thing once, as
though in answer to the man on the barrow. It seemed to me very
curious. I nudged Hugh's arm, and slipped into the shelter of the
cave. For a few moments we watched the signaller. Then, suddenly, the
watcher at the road-bend came running back from his little tour up the
road, waving his arms, and flashing his bright plate as he ran. We saw
him spring to his old place on the wall, and jump from his perch into
the ditch. He had some shelter there, for we could see his head