228 By Stream and Sea. 



to the ocean. But cheer up. How thankful we ought to' 

 be! If the wind did not lash the water, we should have 

 been frozen in long before this." 



Grazing against something as the punt passed on, the 

 belated ones popped simultaneously from beneath their 

 covering and grasped the reeds, thankful that they had at 

 least the means of keeping themselves from travelling. The 

 wind shrieked less; became only reasonably strong, changed 

 from howling to grumbling, and, finally, in a sobbing whine, 

 scuttled away across the, flats to the sea. The snowflakes 

 gave up fighting, agreed to make it a drawn battle, and fell 

 peaceably without interfering with each other's freedom. 



Harvey was equal to the occasion. It was nine o'clock ; 

 in a couple of hours they might be at Kype Manor, though 

 that was not likely. 



" Now, Thornbury," he said, " let us take another pull at 

 the flask, light our pipes, and act." Then, as he kindled 

 his bird's-eye, he remarked slyly between the puffs, "How 

 picturesque it all looks in the spotless veil which conceals 

 what is unlovely!" 



" No more of that, for mercy's sake !" Thornbury implored. 



" How ethereal the smoke hovering, etc.," he continued. 



Surly as Thornbury was, he could not but acknowledge 

 that the hit was palpable and fair. They made fun over 

 it together, and hauled the boat along the edge of the reeds 

 — hauled, hauled, hauled, at snail's pace, for two mortal 

 hours, and, as they discovered afterwards, hauled nearly 

 round the entire broad. What flights of wildfowl there were 

 after the storm ! Harvey talks to this day of the teams of 

 ducks, rushes of dunbirds, coveys of coots and greylag 

 geese, that doubly darkened the night, and kept the water 

 alive until the frost began to tell upon it. 



Hard upon midnight a water passage hove in sight on 



