174 A MEDLEY OF SPORT 



craft this weather. Doubt it's fog now, and be blowed 

 to it ! " 



" Sorry to disturb your peaceful slumbers, Gilson, 

 but it's clear enough for us to feel our way before dark," 

 said M to the skipper, who looked round in a be- 

 wildered manner, as though still half-asleep. 



The Seamew was once more got under weigh, and, 

 keeping as close in as possible, we sailed along the shore, 

 each man straining his eyes to obtain the first glimpse 

 of Holliwell Point ; for we imagined that the Crouch 

 still lay to the westward. For some little time we 

 reached on without sighting a headland or point of any 

 kind, the seemingly endless sea-walls running ever 

 parallel with the course of the yawl. Suddenly, how- 

 ever, the dark clouds which had obscured the sky for 

 so many long hours cleared away as though by magic, 

 a few scattered flakes alone falling into the tide. 



" Call me a blessed Dutchman if yonder bunch of 

 trees b'aint the clumps on Foulness ! And, dang me, 

 we've sailed right past the Crouch in that blamed snow, 

 gen'lemen ! " cried Gilson, who had climbed into the 

 rigging to obtain a better view of the neighbouring 

 marshes. 



The old man was right, and, looking seaward, we saw 

 the Maplin Light. 



It was no use putting back to the Crouch, how- 

 ever, for the tide was now ebbing fast, and the well- 

 sheltered and snug little creek of New England was the 

 nearest anchorage available. Under easy canvas, the 



