The windows of the dark bungalows, one after another, leapt out, squares of ruddy brightness that flared and flickered and became steadily bright.  Dark heads appeared looking seaward, a door opened, and sent out a brief lane of yellow to mingle and be lost in the comet’s brightness.  That brought me back to the business in hand.

“Boom! boom!” and when I looked again at the great ironclad, a little torchlike spurt of flame wavered behind her funnels.  I could hear the throb and clangor of her straining engines. . . .

I became aware of the voices of people calling to one another in the village.  A white-robed, hooded figure, some man in a bathing wrap, absurdly suggestive of an Arab in his burnous, came out from one of the nearer bungalows, and stood clear and still and shadowless in the glare.

He put his hands to shade his seaward eyes, and shouted to people within.

The people within—­my people!  My fingers tightened on my revolver.  What was this war nonsense to me?  I would go round among the hummocks with the idea of approaching the three bungalows inconspicuously from the flank.  This fight at sea might serve my purpose—­except for that, it had no interest for me at all.  Boom! boom!  The huge voluminous concussions rushed past me, beat at my heart and passed.  In a moment Nettie would come out to see.

First one and then two other wrappered figures came out of the bungalows to join the first.  His arm pointed seaward, and his voice, a full tenor, rose in explanation.  I could hear some of the words.  “It’s a German!” he said.  “She’s caught.”

Some one disputed that, and there followed a little indistinct babble of argument.  I went on slowly in the circuit I had marked out, watching these people as I went.

They shouted together with such a common intensity of direction that I halted and looked seaward.  I saw the tall fountain flung by a shot that had just missed the great warship.  A second rose still nearer us, a third, and a fourth, and then a great uprush of dust, a whirling cloud, leapt out of the headland whence the rocket had come, and spread with a slow deliberation right and left.  Hard on that an enormous crash, and the man with the full voice leapt and cried, “Hit!”

Let me see!  Of course, I had to go round beyond the bungalows, and then come up towards the group from behind.

A high-pitched woman’s voice called, “Honeymooners! honeymooners!  Come out and see!”

Something gleamed in the shadow of the nearer bungalow, and a man’s voice answered from within.  What he said I did not catch, but suddenly I heard Nettie calling very distinctly, “We’ve been bathing.”

The man who had first come out shouted, “Don’t you hear the guns?  They’re fighting—­not five miles from shore.”

“Eh?” answered the bungalow, and a window opened.

“Out there!”

I did not hear the reply, because of the faint rustle of my own movements.  Clearly these people were all too much occupied by the battle to look in my direction, and so I walked now straight toward the darkness that held Nettie and the black desire of my heart.