As the time wore on, my senses became clearer, and I saw that we were travelling along the seaside. The faint gray light of breaking day shed a cold gleam across the green water, which plashed with a mournful cadence on the low, flat shore. I watched the waves as they beat with a heavy sough amid the scattered weeds, where the wild cry of the curlew mingled with the sound as he skimmed along the gloomy water, and my heart grew heavier. There is something--I know not what--terribly in unison with our saddest thoughts, in the dull plash of the sea at night: the loudest thunders of the storm, when white-crested waves rise high and break in ten thousand eddies on the dark rocks, are not so suggestive of melancholy as the sighing moan of the midnight tide. Long-buried griefs, long-forgotten sorrows, rise up as we listen; and we feel as though that wailing cry were the funeral chant over cherished hopes and treasured aspirations. From my dark musings I was roused suddenly by Darby's voice, asking of the men who sat at the opposite side how the wind was. “Westing by south,” replied one; “as fair as need be, if there was enough of it. But who knows, we may have a capful yet, when the sun gets up.” “We 'll not have long to wait for that,” cried the other; “see there!” I lifted my eyes as he spoke, and beheld the pink stain of coming day rising above the top of a large mountain. “That's Howth,” said Darby, seizing with eagerness the proof of my returning senses. “Come, press on as fast as you can,” said one of the men; “we must catch the ebb, or we'll never do it.” “Where does she lie?” said Darby, in a low whisper. “Under the cliffs, in Bolskaton Bay,” said the last speaker, whom I now perceived by his dress and language to be a sailor. My curiosity was now excited to the utmost to know whither we were bound; and with an effort I articulated the one word, “Where?” Darby's eyes brightened as I spoke; he pressed my hand firmly within his, but made no reply. Attributing his silence to caution, I pressed him no further; and indeed, already my former indifference came back on me, and I felt listless as before. “Turn off there to the right,” cried the sailor to the driver. And suddenly we left the highroad, and entered a narrow byway, which seemed to lead along the side of the mountain close to the water's edge. Before we had proceeded far in this direction, a long, low whistle was heard from a distance. “Stop there, stop!” said the sailor, as he knelt upon the car, and replied to the signal. “Ay, all right; there they are,” said he, as, pointing to a little creek between the rocks below us, we saw a small rowboat with six men lying on their oars. “Can't he walk?” said the sailor, in a half whisper, as he stood beside the car. “Well, let 's lose no more time; we 'll take him down between us.” “No, no,” said Darby; “put him on my back; I 'll do it myself.” “The ground's slippier than you take it,” said the other; “my way 's the safest.”