On stormy nights it shows the exact entrance to the water causeway. Mr. Fentolin sighed. The fishermen around here are certainly rather a casual class. There isn't one of them who isn't too lazy to learn even the simplest stroke. I have never been able to feel like that, Mr. Hamel.
Life is such a wonderful thing.
I was down here one dark winter night. There was a great north wind and a huge sea running. It was as black as pitch, but I heard a boat making for St. David's causeway strike on those rocks just hidden in front there. I heard those fishermen shriek as they went under. I heard their shouts for help, I heard their death cries.