At the beginning of the downs I stopped the carriage, paid and dismissed the astonished post-boy and started off alone at a swinging trot across the snow.  Southward hung the white moon, now high in heaven.  It must be almost time.  Along the old track I ran, still clutching my bundle, over the frozen ruts, stumbling, slipping, but with set teeth and straining muscles, skirted the hill above Polkimbra with just a glimpse of the cottage roofs shining in the hollow below, and raced along the cliffs towards Lantrig.  I guessed that Colliver would come across Polkimbra Beach, so had determined to approach the rock from the northern side, over Ready-Money Cove.

Lantrig, my old home, was merrily lit up this Christmas Eve, and the sight of it gave me one swift, sharp pang of anguish as I stole cautiously downwards to the sands.  At the cliff’s foot I paused and looked across the Cove.

Sable and gloomy as ever, Dead Man’s Rock soared up against the moon, the grim reality of that dark shadow which had lain upon all my life.  From it had my hate started; to it was I now at the last returning.  There it stood, the stern warder of that treasure for which my grandfather had sold his soul, my father had given his life, and I had lost all that made both life and soul worth having.  “Blood shall be their inheritance, and Fire their portion for ever.”  The curse had lain upon us all.

Creeping along the shadow, I crossed the little Cove and peered through the archway on to Polkimbra Sands, now sparkling in the moonlight.

Not a soul in sight!  As far as eye could see the beach was utterly deserted and peaceful.  I stepped down to a small pool, left by the receding tide in the rock’s shadow, removed my false hair and beard, and carefully washed away all traces of paint from my face.  This done, I slipped off my shoes and holding them with the bundle in my right hand, began softly and carefully to ascend the rock.  I gained the first ledge; crept out along it as far as the ring mentioned on the clasp, and then began to climb again.  This needed care, for the ascent on the north side was harder at first than on the other, and I could use but one hand with ease.  Slowly, however, and with effort I pulled myself up and then stole out towards the face until I could command a view of Polkimbra Beach.  Still I could see nobody, only the lights of the little church-town twinkling across the beach and, far beyond, the shadowy cliffs of Kynance.  I pulled out my watch.  It was close on half-past eleven, the hour of dead low water.

As I looked up again I thought I saw a speck approaching over the sands.  Yes, I was not mistaken.  I set my teeth and crouched down nearer to the rock.  Over the sands, beneath the shadow of the cliffs he came, and as he drew nearer, I saw that he carried something on his shoulder, doubtless the spade and pickaxe.  A moment more and he turned to see that no one was following.  As he did so, the moon shone full in his face, and I saw, stripped now of all disguises, the features of my enemy.