les, "dead's the right word to use, for dead
we'd all be, bar Providence, if we was to put out in this. You see,
sir," he explained, in answer to my look of surprise, "this is what we
call a 'land wind,' that is, it's a-blowing, as one might say, direct off
the land."

When I came to think of it the man was right; the wind was blowing off
the land.

"It may change in the night," said Captain Goyles, more hopefully
"anyhow, it's not violent, and she rides well."

Captain Goyles resumed his cigar, and I returned aft, and explained to
Ethelbertha the reason for the delay. Ethelbertha, who appeared to be
less high spirited than when we first boarded, wanted to know _why_ we
couldn't sail when the wind was off the land.

"If it was not blowing off the land," said Ethelbertha, "it would be
blowing off the sea, and that would send us back into the shore again. It
seems to me this is just the very wind we want."

I said: "That is your inexperience, love; it _seems_ to be the very wind
we want, but it is not. It's what we call a land wind, and a land wind
is always very dangerous."

Ethelbertha wanted to know _why_ a land wind was very dangerous.

Her argumentativeness annoyed me somewhat; maybe I was feeling a bit
cross; the monotonous rolling heave of a small yacht at anchor depresses
an ardent spirit.

"I can't explain it to you," I replied, which was true, "but to set sail
in this wind would be the height of foolhardiness, and I care for you too
much, dear, to expose you to unnecessary risks."

I thought this rather a neat conclusion, but Ethelbertha merely replied
that she wished, under the circumstances, we hadn't come on board till
Tuesday, and went below.

In the morning the wind veered round to the north; I was up early, and
observed this to Captain Goyles.

"Aye, aye, sir," he remarked; "it's unfortunate, but it can't be helped."

"You don't think it possible for us to start to-day?" I hazarded.

He did not get angry with me, he only laughed.

"Well, sir," said he, "if you was a-wanting to go to Ipswich, I should
say as it couldn't be better for us, but our destination being, as you
see, the Dutch coast--why there you are!"

I broke the news to Ethelbertha, and we agreed to spend the day on shore.
Harwich is not a merry town, towards evening you might call it dull. We
had some tea and watercress at Dovercourt, and then returned to the quay
to look for Captain Goyles and the boat. We waited an ho