This was the inglorious end of the river.
'What are you looking for?
said Knight, following the direction of her eyes.
She was gazing hard at a black object--nearer to the shore than to the horizon--from the summit of which came a nebulous haze, stretching like gauze over the sea.
'The Puffin, a little summer steamboat--from Bristol to Castle Boterel,' she said.

'I think that is it--look.

Will you give me the glass ?' Knight pulled open the old-fashioned but powerful telescope, and handed it to Elfride, who had looked on with heavy eyes.
'I can't keep it up now,' she said.
'Rest it on my shoulder.' 'It is too high.' 'Under my arm.' 'Too low.

You may look instead,' she murmured weakly.
Knight raised the glass to his eye, and swept the sea till the Puffin entered its field.
'Yes, it is the Puffin--a tiny craft.

I can see her figure-head distinctly--a bird with a beak as big as its head.' 'Can you see the deck ?' 'Wait a minute; yes, pretty clearly.