122 A PIRATE RAID. 
and up, heading straight away into the sky, 
due south. And eight miles away the tide 
had at that moment turned. That was what 
they had been waiting for, but you must get 
some one else to explain how they knew. 
Far-flung, lone and dreary, dank, damp, and 
desolate, pale pearl and ruby like a sheet of 
smoked glass, the estuary lay in the last 
glowing light of the late-summer day. Sud- 
denly, from directly overhead, burst out a 
single laugh, and instantly a chorus of wild 
screams and wilder laughter followed. Look- 
ing up, one could see them, high, high up, 
flying compactly, a group of black-headed 
gulls coming from inland, and as one watched 
they sank—sank to an island all alone in the 
very middle of the estuary, floated down, cried 
aloud discordantly, and were still. The pirates 
had come home to sleep. 
