He thought of
the time when he had passed that way on the outward voyage, poor and
unknown, and had watched the last island of his native land sink below
the sea-rim. Much had happened since then--and now that he had at last
come home, what life awaited him there?
A little after two in the morning he came on deck again, but stood
still in astonishment at finding that the vessel was now boring her way
through a thick woolly fog. The devil! thought he, beginning to tramp up
and down the deck impatiently. It seemed that his great moment was to be
lost--spoiled for him! But suddenly he stopped by the railing, and stood
gazing out into the east.
What was that? Far out in the depths of the woolly fog a glowing spot
appeared; the grey mass around grew alive, began to move, to redden, to
thin out as if it were streaming up in flames. Ah! now he knew! It was
the globe of the sun, rising out of the sea. On board, every point where
the night's moisture had lodged began to shine in gold. Each moment it
grew clearer and lighter, and the eye reached farther. And before he
could take in what was happening, the grey darkness had rolled itself
up into mounds, into mountains, that grew buoyant and floated aloft and
melted away. And there, all revealed, lay the fresh bright morning, with
a clear sun-filled sky over the blue sea.
It was time now to get out his field-glasses. For a long time he stood
motionless, gazing intently through them.
There! Was it his fancy? No, there far ahead he can see clearly now a
darker strip between sky and sea.
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