recommended was the air of the sea. At the same time he was
forbidden to receive either letters or telegrams, during his
absence from town, until the doctor had seen him again. These
instructions pointed, in Captain Bennydeck's estimation, to
sailing for pleasure's sake, and therefore to hiring a yacht.

The third and last letter announced that the yacht had been
found, and described the captain's plans when the vessel was
ready for sea.

He proposed to sail here and there about the Channel, wherever
it might please the wind to take him. Friends would accompany
him, but not in any number. The yacht was not large enough to
accommodate comfortably more than one or two guests at a time.
Every now and then, the vessel would come to an anchor in the bay
of the little coast town of Sandyseal, to accommodate friends
going and coming and (in spite of medical advice) to receive
letters. "You may have heard of Sandyseal," the Captain wrote,
"as one of the places which have lately been found out by the
doctors. They are recommending the air to patients suffering from
nervous disorders all over England. The one hotel in the place,
and the few cottages which let lodgings, are crammed, as I hear,
and the speculative builder is beginning his operations at such a
rate that Sandyseal will be no longer recognizable in a few
months more. Before the crescents and terraces and grand hotels
turn the town into a fashionable watering-place, I want to take a
last look at scenes familiar to me under their old aspect. If you
are inclined to wonder at my feeling such a wish as this, I can
easily explain myself. Two miles inland from Sandyseal, there is
a lonely old moated house. In that house I was born. When you