tell, but
I fancied I knew where _I should be_ in a very short time, for the seas
were such as to make it a marvel how such a cockle-shell could float in
such a turmoil of black seething water. It was a terrible night, for
death rode near me on every crested wave, any one of which breaking
aboard would have formed my winding sheet. To make matters worse,
towards morning a dense sea fog set in, and I so far gave myself up as
to say my prayers at least half a dozen times in as many half hours.

"Although apparently very reluctant to do so, the sun did rise at last,
and behold, as the fog melted away, not two miles off, on my starboard
beam, was Alderney. I never felt such a thrill of joy in my life as when
I saw the breakwaters at the entrance to Braye Harbour, extending their
arms as if to receive me into their snug embrace. I was glad to get into
smooth water once again, and inside a harbour to boot, for I had never
expected to set foot on dry land again. The old hands could scarcely
believe that I had crossed the Channel in such a gale; but there I was,
and there was the 'Dewdrop' to prove my assertion, therefore they could
not doubt it. I pumped her out, and repaired the little craft as well as
I could, and on the third day of being in port had eaten everything
eatable aboard, and as there was no chance of resuming the voyage yet I
had to get some food on 'tick.' This was all very well for a day or two,
but after I had been a week in Braye, with no prospect of getting away,
the landlord of the tavern from which I obtained my food, told me that
as I was a perfect stranger to him he could not afford, to keep me any
longer on credit. What security could I give him for further food? This
was a poser, but the end of it was that I left my whole kit in pawn with
him, including even my watch. At length, on the twelfth morning after my
arrival the sea became calm enough for me to proceed, and with a west
wind I was in Guernsey Harbour four hours after leaving Braye. I think
this was the most adventurous voyage I ever made, as it took me sixteen
days to make two hundred and fifty miles. I think if the pay was a
guinea an hour I should not care about again crossing the Channel during
an equinoxial gale, especially to be skipper and crew of such a midge as
the 'Dewdrop.'"

"That's what I call a decent little yarn, Alec,--_multum in parvo_--one
that might be drawn out into quite a long story, and if it were in the
hands of some m