went
again for the lifeboat-house.

There was no doubt of it now. We should be baling soon. Yeo, with one
brown paw on the sheet and the other on the tiller, had not moved, nor
even, so he looked, blinked the strange, unfrowning eyes peering from
under the brim of his hat. The _Mona_ came on an even keel by the
lifeboat-house, shook her wing for a moment as though in delight, and
was off again dancing for the Mid Buoy. She was a live, responsive, and
happy bird. "Now, Yeo," said the passenger beside the sailor, beaming
in proper enjoyment of this quick and radiant experience. "Didn't I
tell you so? What's the matter with this?"

There was nothing the matter with that. The sea was blue and white. The
frail coast, now far away, was of green and gold. The sky was the
assurance of continued good. Our boat was buoyant energy. That bay,
when in its uplifted and sparkling mood, with the extent of its liberty
and the coloured promise of its romantic adventure, has no hint at all
of the startling suddenness of its shadow, that presage of its complex
and impersonal malice.

Yeo turned the big features of his impassive face to his passenger,
looked at him as he would at a wilful and ill-mannered child, and said,
"In five minutes we shall be round the Mid Buoy. Better go back. If you
want to go back, say so now. Soon you won't be able to. We may be kept
out. If we are, don't blame me."

"Oh, go on, you," the man said, smiling indulgently. He was not going
to relinquish the fine gift of this splendid time.

Yeo put his pipe in his mouth and resumed his stare outwards. He said
no more. On we went, skimming over inflowing ridges with exhilarating
undulations, light as a sandpiper. It was really right to call that a
glorious morning. I heard the curlews fluting among the stones of the
Morte Bank, which must then have been almost awash; but I did not look
that way, for the nearing view of the big seas breaking ahead of us
fixed my mind with the first intentness of anxiety. Though near the top
of the flood, the fairway could not be made out. What from the distance
had appeared orderly ranks of surf had become a convulsive wilderness
of foam, piled and dazzling, the incontinent smother of a heavy ground
swell; for after all, though the wind needed watching, it was nothing
much. The _Mona_ danced on towards the anxious place. Except the
distant hills there was no shore. Our hills were of water now we neared
the bar. They appeared ahe