When within sight of the distant shore, a pilot boat came along and offered to take anyone ashore in six hours.

I was so delighted at the thought of reaching land that, after much persuasion, Mr.Stanton and Mr.Birney consented to go.
Accordingly we were lowered into the boat in an armchair, with a luncheon consisting of a cold chicken, a loaf of bread, and a bottle of wine, with just enough wind to carry our light craft toward our destination.

But, instead of six hours, we were all day trying to reach the land, and, as the twilight deepened and the last breeze died away, the pilot said: "We are now two miles from shore, but the only way you can reach there to-night is by a rowboat." As we had no provisions left and nowhere to sleep, we were glad to avail ourselves of the rowboat.

It was a bright moonlight night, the air balmy, the waters smooth, and, with two stout oarsmen, we glided swiftly along.

As Mr.Birney made the last descent and seated himself, doubtful as to our reaching shore, turning to me he said: "The woman tempted me and I did leave the good ship." However, we did reach the shore at midnight and landed at Torquay, one of the loveliest spots in that country, and our journey to Exeter the next day lay through the most beautiful scenery in England.
As we had no luggage with us, our detention by customs officers was brief, and we were soon conducted to a comfortable little hotel, which we found in the morning was a bower of roses.