ole affair seemed to grow misty and dreamlike, and I was
only in a half-conscious state, when all at once I noted that the sky
looked pale and grey behind us, and this showed that we were rowing to
the west.

But for a long time there was nothing but that pale grey look in the sky
to indicate that morning was coming; indeed, once, or twice as it became
cloudy, it seemed to be darker.

By degrees, though, out of the dull drowsy, weary confusion of that
bitter night the day did begin to dawn; and in a hopeless way we tried
to make out how far we were from the shore. But for a long time we
could distinguish nothing but what seemed to be high hills, having long
missed the stars now on account of the clouds.

Then we thought these must be clouds too, for it seemed impossible that
it could be land, and both Bigley and I said so to Bob.

But he was sulky and dejected, and would not take any notice of us,
treating us both as if it was all our fault that we had been driven out
to sea, though we were quite as miserable as he; and at any moment I
felt ready to throw myself down in the bottom of the boat and give up.

At last, though, as there comes an end to all dismal nights, this also
had its finish, and we made out, as we lay on the cold grey sea of that
fine winter morning, that we were about five miles from the Welsh coast,
and home lay as near as we could tell right beyond the range of our
vision, far away to the south-east.

"What's to be done?" Bob said dolefully. "Hadn't we better row ashore
here, and ask for something to eat?"

Big said _No_, decidedly, for he had caught sight of a good-sized vessel
some miles away to the south-east.

"If we get ashore here we shall be farther away from home," he argued;
"and I've heard my father say there's sharp currents about this coast,
which would be too much for us, and besides, father is sure to come out
to look for us this morning, so let's try and get back."

"And some ship is sure to see us, and give us something to eat," I said
hopefully. "Come, Bob, rouse up. We shall get across all right."

Setting the boat's head as nearly as we could guess toward the opposite
shore, we began to row; and, though it was winter time, we were not long
before we were pretty warm, and Bob Chowne unwillingly took his turn.

But we made poor progress. Miles take a great deal of getting over with
a small boat in the open sea at the best of times. So rowed as ours was
by three wea