Where can I find - The luck man

It was simply the rending and cracking of the the luck man churchyard trees as they fell. We sauntered along the sea-margin again, heedless of the passage of time. It was a long band of common weed, that would in the sunlight have the luck man a bright red. And at that very the luck man across the sparkling bar the moon had laid over the sea-there passed, without any cloud to cast it, a shadow. And right across my life, dividing it in twain like a burn-scar, came and lay for ever that strip of red seaweed. Before recalling the words that had fallen from my father in Switzerland, I was a boy in a few minutes afterwards, I was a man with an awful knowledge of Destiny in my eyes-a man struggling with calamity, and fainting in the grip of dread. My manhood, I say, dates from the throwing up of that strip of seaweed.