s were cast into the air in considerable
quantities, while the boat was nearest in. One thing, moreover, Mark
ascertained, which greatly increased his confidence in the permanency of
the changes that had lately occurred in the physical formation of all
that region. He found himself in comparatively shoal water, when fully a
league from this new crater. Shoal in a seaman's sense, though not in
shallow water; the soundings being from fifteen to twenty fathoms, with
a rocky bottom.

Between the volcano and Vulcan's Peak it blew quite fresh, and Mark had
a good occasion to ascertain the qualities of the pinnace. A long, heavy
swell came rolling through the passage, which was near sixty miles in
width, seemingly with a sweep that extended to the Southern Ocean.
Notwithstanding all this, the little craft did wonders, struggling along
in a way one would hardly have expected from so small a vessel. She made
fully two knots' headway in the worst of it, and in general her rate of
sailing, close on a wind and under pretty short canvas, was about three.
The night was very dark, and there was nothing to steer by but the wind,
which gave some little embarrassment; but finding himself in much
smoothe water than he had been all the previous day, about midnight, our
young man felt satisfied that he was under the lee of the island, and at
no great distance from it. He made short tacks until daylight, when the
huge mass hove up out of the departing darkness, within a mile of the
boat. It only remained to run along the land for two or three miles, and
to enter the haven of Snug Cove. Mark had been telling his companions
what a secret place this haven was to conceal a vessel in, when he had a
practical confirmation of the truth of his statement that caused him to
be well laughed at. For ten minutes he could not discover the entrance
himself, having neglected to take the proper land-marks, that he might
have no difficulty in running for his port. After a time, however, he
caught sight of an object that he remembered, and found his way into the
cove. Here lay the little namesake of his pretty wife, just as he had
left her, the true Bridget smiling and blushing as the young husband
pointed out the poor substitute he had been compelled to receive for
herself, only ten days earlier.

Mark, and Socrates, and Dido, and Teresa, Bigelow's wife, all carried up
heavy loads; while Heaton had as much as he could do to help Anne and
the child up the sha