He smiled again.
Gradually, slowly, the morning came.

The last remnant of low-hanging mist drifted away.

Before the bows of the stranded schooner appeared a flat shore with a road, still partially covered by the receding tide, along its border.

Fish houses and anchored dories became visible.

Behind them were hills, and over them roofs and trees and steeples.
A step sounded behind the watcher in the bows.