The Admiral came forth from his cabin in a dress that a prince might have worn, crimson and tawny, and around his throat a golden chain.

Far and near rushed into light, for in these lands and seas the dawn makes no tarrying.

It is almost night, then with a great clap of light it is day.
We had voyaged, all thought, to Asia over an untrodden way.

Every eye turned to land.

Not haze, not dissolving cloud, not a magic nothing in the thought, but land, land, solid, palpable, like Palos strand! Had we seen a great port city, had we seen ships crowding harbor, had we seen a citadel on some height, armed and frowning, had we marked temples and palaces and banners afloat in this divine cool wind of morning, many aboard us would have had now no surprise, would have cried, "Of course, I really knew it, though for the fun of it I pretended otherwise!" But others among us could not expect such as this after the quiet night; no light before us save that one so soon quenched, no stir of boat at all or large or small; an unearthly quiet, a low land still as a sleeping marsh under moon.
The light brightened.