shall continue always to lead. Following is an art which
Turcks do not easily learn.

It was not until the third day that we raised land, dead
ahead, which I took, from my map, to be the isles of Scilly.
But such a gale was blowing that I did not dare attempt to
land, and so we passed to the north of them, skirted Land's
End, and entered the English Channel.

I think that up to that moment I had never experienced such
a thrill as passed through me when I realized that I was
navigating these historic waters. The lifelong dreams that
I never had dared hope to see fulfilled were at last a
reality--but under what forlorn circumstances!

Never could I return to my native land. To the end of my
days I must remain in exile. Yet even these thoughts failed
to dampen my ardor.

My eyes scanned the waters. To the north I could see the
rockbound coast of Cornwall. Mine were the first American
eyes to rest upon it for more than two hundred years. In
vain, I searched for some sign of ancient commerce that, if
history is to be believed, must have dotted the bosom of the
Channel with white sails and blackened the heavens with the
smoke of countless funnels, but as far as eye could reach
the tossing waters of the Channel were empty and deserted.

Toward midnight the wind and sea abated, so that shortly
after dawn I determined to make inshore in an attempt to