We killed the evening with books and talk, and the minutes fled with the velocity of the flight of birds. Our sailor steward informed us that Caudel and the boy had turned in after making a hearty supper and were sleeping like dead men. I stood awhile in the companion to smoke a pipe before going to bed; but at that hour the night was as black as thunder, the wet hissed upon our decks as it fell; yet upon the white waters of the steamer's wake the dim configuration of the little _Spitfire_ was visible, with her weak side-lights of red and green dimly glimmering over the pale, faint stream of froth that rushed from the _Mermaid's_ counter to the dandy's sides. It was possibly the thoughts and memories induced by the obscure and melancholy vision of the little fabric in our wake that rendered me nervous. I thought to myself--here we are steaming at ten or twelve knots an hour through a thick, coal-black night; suppose we should plunge into some wooden or metal side? Some such apprehensions as this, not quite idle nor unmanly either, dismissed me to my cabin with a resolution to lie down fully clothed, and for three hours I lay wide awake, listening to the restless grinding of the engines and to the sounds of water flowing swiftly past. I then rose, and felt my way up the companion steps, not doubting to find the same black, weeping night I had left; instead of which my mind was instantly relieved by the spectacle of a high, clear sky, crowded with stars, with the firm ebony line of the horizon showing sharp against the distant starry reaches, and within half a mile of us on our starboard beam the huge shape of an ocean steamer, some vessel from who shall tell what distant part of the world--the Cape, the Indies, the far-off Australias--sliding past us it seemed almost half as fast again as we ourselves were going, a vast symmetric shadow, like an island, with ore bright point of light only visible to my eyes. I waited until she had drawn ahead, then turned in afresh, this time between the sheets, and slept like a top. The change of weather, the clearness of the night helped us, and some time about two o'clock on the afternoon of Monday the _Mermaid_, with the _Spitfire_ in tow, was steaming into Mount's Bay. I stood with Grace on my arm looking. The land seemed as novel and refreshing to our sight as though we had kept the sea for weeks and weeks. The sun stood high, the blue waters delicately brushed by the light wind ran in foamless ripples, the long curve of the parade with the roofs of houses past it dominated by a church came stealing out of the green slopes and hills beyond. A few smacks from Newlyn were putting to sea, and the whole picture that way was rich with the dyes of their canvas.