I am always well suited with it." Now John Hatton was a cotton-spinner, but he knew the ways of a boat, and the winds and tides that would serve her, and the road southward she must take; and at his will she went, as if she was a solan flying for the rocks.

When they first started, the sea-birds were dozing on their perches, waiting for the dawn, and their unwonted silence lent a stronger sense of loneliness to the gray, misty waters.

But as they approached the pillars of Hoy, the wind rose and the waves swelled refulgent in the crimsoning east.
Then the man at the wheel was seen in all his great beauty--a man of lofty stature perfectly formed and full of power and grace in every movement.

His head had an antique massiveness and was crowned with bright brown hair thrown backward.

His forehead was wide and contemplative, his eyes large and gray and thickly fringed, lustrous but _not_ piercing.