The voyage was utterly monotonous.

In spite of the season, the weather was calm and generally fine; and they made good progress.

The days when an unbroken expanse of sea lay round them were not many, and on the second Sunday afternoon land was already in sight.
That day was unusually mild.

Mrs.Costello and Lucia came up together about two o'clock, and, after walking up and down for some time, they sat down to watch the distant misty line which they might have thought a cloud on the horizon, but which was gradually growing nearer and more distinct.
While they sat, a single bird came flying from the land.

Its wings gleamed like silver in the sunlight, and as it came, flying now higher, now lower, but always towards the ship, they saw that it was no sea-bird, but a white pigeon--pure white, without spot or tinge of colour, like the glittering snow of Canada.