e estuary of the Wraythe, the line of shadowy cliffs that extend like
a rugged wall out to the dim promontory of Shargle Head.

Above all, I can see again the sea, bluer even than the blue sky
overhead; and as it tumbles languidly in from the horizon, fringing the
amphitheatre of the bay with its edge of sparkling white, my ears can
catch the murmur of its solemn music as they heard it in those days long
gone by.

Well I remember, too, the same bay and the same sea; but oh, how
changed!

Far as the eye could reach the great white waves charged towards the
land, one upon another, furious and headlong; below us they thundered
and lashed and rushed back upon their fellows, till we who watched could
not hear so much as our own voices. In the distance they leapt savagely
at the base of the now lowering headlands, and fought madly over the
hidden rocks and sands. They sent their sleet and foam-flakes before
them, blinding us where we stood on the cliff-top; they seethed and
boiled in the hollows of the rocks, and over the river bar they dashed
and plunged till far up the stream their fury scarcely spent itself.

At such times no ship or boat ventured willingly into Colveston Bay; or
if it did, it rarely, if ever, left it again.

But such times were rare--very rare with us. Indeed, I had been months
at Parkhurst before I witnessed a real storm, and months again before I
saw another. So that my acquaintance with the bay was almost altogether
connected with its milder aspects, and as such it appeared both
fascinating and tempting.

It was on a beautiful August holiday morning that four of us were
lounging lazily in a boat down at the bar mouth, looking out into the
bay and watching the progress of a little fishing smack, which was
skipping lightly over the bright waves in the direction of Shargle Head.
Her sails gleamed in the sunlight, and she herself skimmed so lightly
across the waters, and bounded so merrily through their sparkling
ripples, that she seemed more like a fairy craft than a real yacht of
boards and canvas. "I'd give a good deal to be in her!" exclaimed Hall,
one of our party, a sea captain's son, to whom on all nautical matters
we accorded the amplest deference. "So would I," said Hutton. "How
jolly she looks!"

"Ever so much more fun than knocking about on this stupid old river,"
chimed in I.

"I say, you fellows," cried Hall, struck by a sudden idea, "why
shouldn't we have a little cruise in t