rain on deck. It blew and rained all the morning, and at noon took a
fresh breath and began to blow viciously. After luncheon we abandoned our
project of walking to Bolt Head, and chose such books from the cabin
library as might decently excuse an afternoon's siesta. A scamper of feet
fetched me out of my berth and up on deck. By this time a small gale was
blowing, and to our slight dismay the boat had dragged her anchors and
carried us up into sight of Kingsbridge. Luckily our foolish career was
arrested for the moment; and, still more luckily, within handy distance of
a buoy--laid there, I believe, for the use of vessels under quarantine.
We carried out a hawser to this buoy, and waited until the tide should
ease and allow us to warp down to it. Our next business was with the
peccant anchors. We had two down--the best anchor and kedge; and supposed
at first that the kedge must have parted. But a couple of minutes at the
capstan reassured us. It was the kedge which had been holding us, to the
extent of its small ability. And the Bag is an excellent anchorage after
all, but not if you happen to get your best anchor foul of its chain. We
hauled up, cleared, warped down to the buoy; and then, hoisting mizzen and
headsails, cast loose and worked back to our old quarters.

The afternoon's amusement, though exciting enough in its way, was not what
we had come to Salcombe to seek. And since the weather promised nothing
better, and already a heap of more or less urgent letters must be
gathering dust in the post office at Plymouth, we resolved to beat over
the bar at high water next morning (_this_ morning), and, as Mr. Lang puts
it, 'know the brine salt on our lips, and the large air again': for there
promised to be plenty of both between Bolt Head and the Mewstone.

'Shun delays, they breed remorse,' and 'Time wears all his locks before'
(or, as the Fourth-form boy translated it in pentameter,
"_Tempus habet nullat posteriori comas_"). The fault was mine for wasting
an invaluable hour among the 'shy traffickers' of Salcombe. By the time
we worked down to the bar the tide had been ebbing for an hour and a half.
The wind still blew strong from the south-west, and the seas on the bar
were not pleasant to contemplate. Let alone the remoter risk of scraping
on one of the two shallow patches which diversify the west (and only
practicable) side of the entrance, it one of those big fellows happened to
stagger us