These conditions prevailed during Sunday, and we crept along gradually, as it were, feeling our way. Every precaution was taken, a sharp look-out was kept forward, a sailor being also stationed in the fore-top, while two men were continually in the chains, taking the depth of the water, and the foghorn was kept constantly going as well. About five o'clock, the dinner bell had just rung, Payne and I were standing by the port rail, looking over the side, near the after hatchway. A curtain of fog which had come thickly down was just lifting, when a cry rang out from the look-out forward, "Breakers ahead." Then came the order from the captain on the bridge, "_Hard a port!_" A second later the fog lifted further, and there alongside rose the precipitous rocky face of the "Bill of Portland." It looked almost as if you could throw a biscuit ashore. There was no wind, and the sea was gently lapping up against the base of the high cliff. Payne put his hand on my shoulder, "Look there," he said, "that is the place to swim for, where you see the grass growing down almost to the water's edge." In a moment it was all over, land and sea being once more completely enveloped in fog. Fortunately the ship had sufficient weigh on her to enable her to answer her helm, and she at once came round to starboard, when all danger was past. Mr. and Mrs. West were down in the saloon, and knew nothing of what had happened, nor did we either of us mention one word about it. We made slow progress during the night, but when daylight appeared, the sky was clear, and when I came on deck about nine o'clock, we were just about to pass inside the "Needles." We then steamed leisurely up the Solent, the tide was favourable, so that we got alongside the landing stage, and were able to go ashore soon after eleven. I then bid good-bye to my friend Payne, and having collected my belongings, got them conveyed to the railway station, where I took the first train to London, and so ended my experiences of "Old days among the Gauchos of Uruguay." THE END.