of, in either of our families; and Emily, you may be sure, will see he's
not brought up to be a baker."

He announced it in the most matter-of-fact way. He was going back to
England to die--to die speedily--and he knew it. "I should like you to
see our baby, sir," he added. "He weighs extraordinary, for his age.
My wife comes from the North of England--a very big-boned family; and
he's British, every ounce of him, though he _was_ born in South Africa."

But the wife took a chill on entering the Bay, and remained below with
the child; nor was it until the day we sighted England that I saw the
whole family together.


We were to pick up the Eddystone; and as this was calculated to happen
at sunset, or a little after, the usual sweepstake on the saloon-deck
aroused a little more than the usual excitement. For the first glimpse,
whether of lighthouse or light, would give the prize to the nearest
guesser. If we anticipated sunset, the clearness of the weather would
decide between two pretty close shots: if we ran it fine, the lamp
(which carries for seventeen miles and more) might upset those who
staked on daylight even at that distance from the mark. Our guesses had
been tabulated, and the paper pinned up in the smoking-room.

They allowed a margin of some twenty-five knots on the twenty-four
hours' run--ranging, as nearly as I can recollect, from three hundred
and thirty-five to three hundred and sixty; and the date being the last
week of March, and sunset falling close on half-past six, a whole nebula
of guesses surrounded that hour, one or two divided only by a few
seconds.