Explore "The Haunted Island" by E.H. Visiak on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The tide was at ebb; but I walked down the shore until I could see, faint and ashen, the curled crests of the breakers and the foam writhing upon the sand. I began to make along to the northward.
There came a flash of lightning glimmering upon the face of the high cliff. It was followed a little after by another, a blinding flash; and so continued intermittent. Presently a sort of hoarse rolling sound came to me above the clamour of the breakers. It waxed louder as I proceeded, and soon I knew what it was: the sound of waters falling from a blow-hole high up on the lofty cliff.