rring action. A gentle breeze from
the north was blowing--a 'soldier's' wind that set fair to east and
west, and the wind-bound ships were hurrying to get their anchors and
be off, to make the most of it. A swift pilot cutter, sailing tack and
tack through the anchorage, was serving pilots on the outward bound,
and as each was boarded in turn, the merry _clank-clank_ of windlass
pawls broke out, and the chorus of an anchor chantey woke the echoes of
the Bay. Quay punts passed to and fro from ship to shore, lurching,
deep-laden with stores, or sailing light to reap the harvest that the
west wind had blown them. Among them came Jan Pengelly (anxious that
payment 'by tops'l sheets' did not again occur with him), and the Welsh
coasting pilot who was to sail with us.

The weather anchor was strong bedded and loth to come home, and it was
as the last of the fleet that we hoisted our number and ran out between
Pendennis and the Head. The Old Man was in high good humour that he
had no towing bills to settle, and walked the poop, rubbing his hands
and whistling a doleful encouragement to the chill north wind.

Safely past the dread Manacles, the Falmouth pilot left us. We crowded
sail on her, steering free, and dark found us in open channel, leaning
to a steady breeze, and the Lizard lights dipping in the wake astern.

XXV

"T' WIND'ARD!"

For over a week of strong westerly gales we had kept the open sea,
steering to the north as best the wind allowed. A lull had come--a
break in the furious succession, though still the sea ran high--and the
Old Man, in part satisfied that he had made his northing, put the helm
up and squared away for the land. In this he was largely prompted by
the coasting pilot (sick of a long, unprofitable, passage--on a
'lump-sum' basis), who confidently asked to be shown but one speck of
Irish land, and, "I'll tell 'oo the road t' Dub-lin, Capt'in!"

Moderately clear at first, but thickening later, as we closed the land,
it was not the weather for running in on a dangerous coast, ill-lighted
and unmarked, but, had we waited for clear weather, we might have
marked time to the westward until the roses came; the wind was fair, we
were over-long on our voyage; sheet and brace and wind in squared sail
thrummed a homeward song for us as we came in from the west.

At close of a day of keen sailing, the outposts of the Irish coast,
bleak, barren, inhospitable, lay under our lee--a few bold roc