for supper. He did not know exactly where he was, for he seemed
to have steamed clean off the chart; but as he conned the helm
that evening, and leaned over the lighted binnacle, he had a
feeling that he was not far from some destiny. With cheerful
assurance he lashed the wheel again, and turned in. He woke once
in the night, and leaped from the hammock with a start. He
thought he had heard a sound of barking.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The next morning he sighted land. Coming out on the bridge, the
whole face of things was changed. The sea-colour had lightened to
a tawny green; gulls dipped and hovered; away on the horizon lay
a soft blue contour. "Land Ho!" he shouted superbly, and wondered
what new country he had discovered. He ran up a hoist of red and
yellow signal flags, and steered gaily toward the shore.

It had grown suddenly cold: he had to fetch Captain Scottie's
pea-jacket to wear at the wheel. On the long spilling crests,
that crumbled and spread running layers of froth in their hurry
shoreward, the Pomerania rode home. She knew her landfall and
seemed to quicken. Steadily swinging on the jade-green surges,
she buried her nose almost to the hawse-pipes, then lifted until
her streaming forefoot gleamed out of a frilled ruffle of foam.

Gissing, too, was eager. A tingling buoyancy and impatience took
hold of him: he fidgeted with sheer eagerness for life. Land, the
beloved stability of our dear and only earth, drew and charmed