away from the wharf. It was a long pull; in fact, it took pretty
nearly the whole afternoon, so that the evening shadows were
lengthening when at length he laid down his oars, and felt the boat's
nose rub against the sand of the little home-cove. But rowing was
no more effort than breathing to Captain January, and it was no
fatigue, but only a trifle of stiffness from sitting so long, that
troubled him a little in getting out of the boat. As he stepped slowly
out upon the firm-grained silver of the little beach, he looked up
and around with an expectant air, and seeing no one, a look of
disappointment crossed his face. He opened his lips as if to call
some one, but checking himself, "Happen she's gettin' supper!" he
said. "It's later than I thought. I don't pull so spry as I used ter,
'pears ter me. Wal, thar! 'tain't to be expected. I sh'll be forty
years old before I know it!"

Chuckling to himself, the Captain drew up the little boat and made
her fast; then, taking sundry brown-paper parcels from under the
thwart, he turned and made his way up towards the lighthouse. A
picturesque figure he was, striding along among the heaped and tumbled
rocks. His hair and beard, still thick and curly, were absolutely
white, as white as the foam that broke over the rocks at the cliff's
foot. His face was tanned and weather-beaten to the colour of
mahogany, but the features were strong and sharply cut, while the
piercing blue eyes which gleamed beneath his shaggy eyebrows showed
all the fire of youth, and seemed to have no part in the seventy years
which had bent the tall form, and rounded slightly the broad and
massive shoulders. The Captain wore a rough pea-jacket and long boots,
while his head was adorned with a nondescript covering which might
have begun life either as a hat or a cap, but would now hardly be
owned by either family.