he sun rose
majestically over the horizon. All the heaven was filled with colour
from the palest, lightest blue at the zenith to the most brilliant
crimson in the east, as though it were nature's palette on which she had
dashed every tint that she possessed. The sea reflected the rich glow,
and the tossing waves were gashed with scarlet streaks. "It looks like
a sea of blood," the merchant remarked with a shudder, as he gazed at
the wonderful spectacle.

By the returning light the two fugitives were able to notice each
other's appearance. Both were pale, haggard, dishevelled, with
bloodshot, dark-rimmed eyes and anxious, weary faces.

"This won't do!" remarked Ezra. "If Miggs sees us like this he'll smell
a rat."

He dipped a bucket overboard, and after some search a small piece of
soap and a broken comb were extracted from one of the lockers.
With these materials they managed to perform their toilets.
They re-arranged and cleaned each other's clothing too, and Ezra
purchased a yachting-cap from Sampson for his father, the jaunty nature
of which contrasted strangely with the old man's grim angular visage.

"There's a fine view!" Sampson observed, pointing towards the land, just
as his two passengers had finished their toilet.

They were passing a high range of cliffs which ran along for a great
distance. Some were of chalk and others were brownish, as though
consisting of some sort of earth. There was one which terminated the
line towering up above the rest, and as remarkable for the boldness of
its outline as for its height. A lighthouse stood upon the summit, and
the whole showed up so clearly in the bright morning air that the
fugitives could see the green grass round the house and the
coastguardsman at the signal station, who was strolling leisurely about
and looking down from his elevation at their little craft. To the
eastward of this chalk promontory was a large fine-looking town, which
stretched in a wide semicircle round the shores of a curving bay.

"That's Beachy Head," said Sampson, pointing at the cliff. "It's the
hoiest p'int down Channel, and they have a look-out place up there to
report ships as pass. It was a Muster Lloyd as put it up. I doan't
know who he be, that same Muster Lloyd, but he do seem to take a
powerful deal of interest in everythink which has to do wi' shipping.
He's an admiral belike, or something o' the sort."

Neither of the Girdlestones appeared inclined to enlight