"They imagine their work is done. I wanted it badly. Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. Here he was preparing to leap over the hedge into the fields on the left, when he was intercepted by two horsemen, who, hearing the shouts, rode up and struck at him with the butt-ends of their heavy riding-whips. Sydney sprang up. "Mother—dear mother! Once again, I beseech you to listen to me.
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