ks,
around and above wreathed in sea-mist, and the never-dying Atlantic
swell breaking heavily at base.

"Iss, indeed, Capt'in! The Stags! The Stags of Broad-haven, I tell
'oo," said the pilot, scanning through his glasses with an easy
assurance. "Indeed to goodness, it iss the best landfall I haf ever
seen, Capt'in!"

Though pleased with his navigation, the Old Man kept his head. "Aye,
aye," he said. "The Stags, eh? Well, we'll haul up t' th' wind
anyway--t' make sure!" He gave the order, and went below to his charts.

Rolling heavily, broad to the sea and swell, we lay awhile. There was
no sign of the weather clearing, no lift in the grey mist that hung
dense over the rugged coast-line. On deck again, the Old Man stared
long and earnestly at the rocky islets, seeking a further guidemark.
In the waning daylight they were fast losing shape and colour. Only
the breaking sea, white and sightly, marked them bold in the grey
mist-laden breath of the Atlantic. "----'present themselves,
consisting of four high rocky islets of from two thirty-three to three
ought-six feet in height, an' steep-to,'" he said, reading from a book
of sailing directions. "Damme! I can only see three." To the pilot,
"D'ye know the Stags well, Mister? Are ye sure o' ye're ground?"

"_Wel, wel_! Indeed, Capt'in" (Mr. Williams laughed). "I know the
Stags, yess! Ass well ass I know Car-narvon! The Stags of
Broad-haven, I tell 'oo. When I wass master of the _Ann Pritchard_, of
Beaumaris, it wass always to the West of Ireland we would be goin'.
Summer and winter, three years, I tell 'oo, before I came to
pilotin'--an' there iss not many places between the Hull and Missen
Head that I haf not seen in daylight an' dark. It iss the Stags,
indeed! East, south-east now, Capt'in, an' a fine run to Sligo Bar!"

Still unassured, the Old Man turned his glasses on the rocky group.
"One--two--three--perhaps that was the fourth just open to the
south'ard"--they certainly tallied with the description in the
book--"high, steep-to." A cast of the lead brought no decision.
Forty-seven! He might be ten miles north and south by that and former
soundings. It was rapidly growing dark, the wind freshening. If he
did not set course by the rocks--Stags they seemed to be--he would lose
all benefit of landfall--would spend another week or more to the
westward, waiting for a rare slant on this coast of mist and foul
weather! Already eighteen days fr