FROM EDINBURGH TO THE ANTARCTIC 
347 
' Yes, sir, but her crew have come home in the Hope, sir/ 
£ Allan Young's ship ? ' 
' Yes, sir.' 
Then there were explanations, and M'Crae saw the 
glint of a five-shilling bit in Mr. Harvey's fist when he 
showed him into a cab. 
Monday, ijth. — In the dog watch we made out the hills 
of the Malvinas or Falkland Islands, which name you 
please, a low, broken line of purple on the horizon against 
a yellow sunset sky, flecked and striped with ridges of 
lavender cloudlets each fringed with rosy red. It was 
like our West Highland sunsets, with a glow in the air 
that gave our dark hull and the men's faces, looking over 
the bulwarks, a warm, rusty tint, and made our masts 
shine like bars of gold. Gradually the hills grew larger, 
the afterglow grew colder, and the welcome spark of 
light on Cape Pembroke became keener as the darkness 
srept over us from the east. 
It was too late to make our way into the roadstead, so 
we* lay off and on through the night. As I write, we are 
gently rolling in the lee of the land ; the easy rolling 
motion that makes one feel so drowsy. 
Tuesday broke clear as crystal, a caller morning with a 
fresh breeze blowing off shore, bringing down the peat 
smoke from the burning moors. 
There was as before no pilot to be seen, so we followed 
our own lead up Port William and through the Narrows 
into Stanley harbour. I heard afterwards that the pilot 
was laid up. Two policemen, however, came off, to 
