CHAPTER SIX 



Revelations of the Night 



TRAIGHT into the gleaming red 

 |path of a setting sun headed the 

 \Hippocampus. We had passed the 

 |bell-buoy at the entrance of Hemp- 

 [stead Harbor and were on our course 

 out into Long Island Sound. In the fast gathering 

 darkness, far across the water, could be seen the 

 twinkling lights of several towns; and these glit- 

 tered on the carmine crests, seeming like floating 

 fireflies carried on a quivering sea of blood. The 

 whole world was afire with color; even the white- 

 painted Hippocampus was aglow with a reflected 

 light of lovely rose. 



The soft, sibilant wash at the bow was hardly 

 less audible than the low hum of the motor as the 

 boat pushed forward at slow speed toward the 

 dying glory of the western skies. Never was a 

 cruise more idyllic; never was a scene more tran- 



[186] 



