They were violet in colour, protuberant, and malevolent beyond words.
He sat down suddenly on the baking black rock, with a cold shiver running down his back in spite of the scorch of the sun.

The utter cold malignity of those great violet eyes, and the thought of what would have happened if he had stepped into that pool, made him momentarily sick.
He had seen small devil-fish in the pools in Sark, but never one approaching this in size.

He crept away at last, leaving it in possession, and found a pool clear of boulders or caving hollows, and sat in it with no great enjoyment, wondering if the great unwholesome beast in the other would be likely to climb the cliff and come upon him in the night.

He thought it unlikely, but still the idea clung to him and caused him no little discomfort.

He blocked his door that night with great green cushions, though he felt doubtful if they would be effective against the wiles and strength of a devil-fish, if half that he had heard of them was true.
In the middle of the night--for he went to bed early, having nothing else to do, except to watch the stars--he woke with a cold start, feeling certain that hideous creature had crawled up the slope and was feeling all round his house for an entrance.
Certainly _something_ was moving about outside, and feeling over the stones in an uncertain, searching kind of a way.