The confinement of the house, after the departure of her unwelcome visitor, stifled Philippa.

Attired in a mackintosh, with a scarf around her head, she made her way on to the quay, and, clinging to the railing, dragged herself along to where the fishermen were gathered together in a little group.

The storm as yet showed no signs of abatement.
"Has anything been heard of Ben Oates' boat ?" she enquired.
An old fisherman pointed seawards.
"There she comes, ma'am, up on the crest of that wave; look!" "Will she get in ?" Philippa asked eagerly.
There were varied opinions, expressed in indistinct mutterings.
"She's weathering it grand," the fisherman to whom she had first spoken, declared.

"We've a line ready yonder, and we're reckoning on getting 'em ashore all right.

Lucky for Ben that the gentleman along with him is a fine sailor.