universe. I
did not see any more of the light. By the lead, which I cast often, I
found that a little after midnight I was passing the east point of the
island, and should soon be clear of dangers of land and shoals. The
wind was holding free, though it was from the foggy point,
south-southwest. It is said that within a few years Sable Island has
been reduced from forty miles in length to twenty, and that of three
lighthouses built on it since 1880, two have been washed away and the
third will soon be engulfed.

[Illustration: "'Good evening, sir.'"]

On the evening of July 5 the _Spray_, after having steered all day
over a lumpy sea, took it into her head to go without the helmsman's
aid. I had been steering southeast by south, but the wind hauling
forward a bit, she dropped into a smooth lane, heading southeast, and
making about eight knots, her very best work. I crowded on sail to
cross the track of the liners without loss of time, and to reach as
soon as possible the friendly Gulf Stream. The fog lifting before
night, I was afforded a look at the sun just as it was touching the
sea. I watched it go down and out of sight. Then I turned my face
eastward, and there, apparently at the very end of the bowsprit, was
the smiling full moon rising out of the sea. Neptune himself coming
over the bows could not have startled me more. "Good evening, sir," I
cried; "I'm glad to see you." Many a long talk since then I have had
with the man in the moon; he had my confidence on the voyage.

About midnight the fog shut down again denser than ever before. One
could almost "stand on it." It continued so for a number of days, the
wind increasing to a gale. The waves rose high, but I had a good ship.
Still, in the dismal fog I felt myself drifting into loneliness, an
insect on a straw in the midst of the elements. I lashed the helm, and
my vessel held her course, and while she sailed I slept.

During these days a feeling of awe crept over me. My memory worked
with startling power. The ominous, the insignificant, the great, the
small, the wonderful, the commonplace--all appeared before my mental
vision in magical succession. Pages of my history were recalled which
had been so long forgotten that they seemed to belong to a previous
existence. I heard all the voices of the past laughing, crying,
telling what I had heard them tell in many corners of the earth.

The loneliness of my state wore off when the gale was high and I found
muc