“ I ⁠—master.”

“Who are you ?”

“They say there is no master now. But I know, I know. I carried the bodies into the sea, O walker in the sea! the bodies of those you slew. I am your slave, master.”

“Are you the one I met on the beach?” I asked.

“The same, master.”

The thing was evidently faithful enough, for it might have fallen upon me as I slept. “It is well,” I said, extending my hand for another licking kiss. I began to realise what its presence meant, and the tide of my courage flowed. “Where are the others?” I asked.