M. that
one might almost throw a biscuit ashore. The feat is on the eve of being
accomplished. The ebb is not yet so strong that he cannot make
palpable progress through the tide. The curlews up in the cliffs are
shrilly heralding the dawn, or welcoming Boyton, which you please. A
fisherman's skiff has put off to show the safest landing place. The
intensest interest is felt by the group on the bridge of the Earnest.
Though day is breaking, the sea is still so dark that only the two
boats can be discerned close to the shore. A cheer comes over the waters
at half past two. Our hearts give a bound. We know the young hero has
accomplished his daring task, and we send back our heartiest cheers to
him. A rocket rushes up and curls in triumph over the cliffs. No one on
board can be more exultant than Mr. Michael Boyton. Yet he coolly calls
through the speaking trumpet, 'Come back now. That will do for to-
night!'
"The rocky strip of beach on which the Captain has landed is in Fan Bay,
a hundred yards or so west of South Foreland Lights. There from he is
speedily rowed to the steamer. Receiving a fresh round of British
hurrahs on nimbly embarking, he is warmly shaken by the hand, his
comely, bronzed face lighting up with a modest smile, albeit his eyes
and skin must be smarting terribly from the continual wash of the salt
sea waves for twenty-three hours and a half.
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