"And I wish the tide served for Lowestoft harbour earlier than ten o'clock." We anchored just astern of the coast-service gunboat, and a few hundred yards south of the pier at Lowestoft, awaiting the rise of the tide.

At eleven o'clock we moved in, and passing through the dock into the river, anchored there for the night.

I gave Madame the choice of passing the night on board and going ashore to the hotel, as it was too late to drive to Hopton.

She elected to remain on board.
As ill fortune would have it, the evil weather foreseen by the captain came upon us in the night, and daylight next morning showed a grey and hopeless sea, with lowering clouds and a slantwise rain driving across all.

The tide was low when the ladies came on deck, and the muddy banks of the river looked dismal enough, while the flat meadowland stretched away on all sides into a dim and mournful perspective of mist and rain.
The Hopton carriage was awaiting us at the landing-stage, and to those unaccustomed to such work the landing in a small boat no doubt presented difficulties and dangers of which we men took no account.
The streets of Lowestoft were sloppy and half-deserted as we drove through them.