One moment we poised, like the gulls that now screamed about us, upon some giddy summit, the sky alone above and around us; the next we sank into dark green and glassy caverns.

Suddenly the wind fell away, veered, and rose again like a giant refreshed.
Diccon started, put his hand to his ear, then sprang to his feet.
"Breakers!" he cried hoarsely.
We listened with straining ears.

He was right.

The low, ominous murmur changed to a distant roar, grew louder yet, and yet louder, and was no longer distant.
"It will be the sand islets off Cape Charles, sir," he said.

I nodded.
He and I knew there was no need of words.
The sky grew paler and paler, and soon upon the woof of the clouds a splash of dull yellow showed where the sun would be.