'Good b'ye! Good b'ye!' Three cheers from them;
three more from us; three more from them: and they are gone.
To and fro, to and fro, to and fro again a hundred times! This
waiting for the latest mail-bags is worse than all. If we could
have gone off in the midst of that last burst, we should have
started triumphantly: but to lie here, two hours and more in the
damp fog, neither staying at home nor going abroad, is letting one
gradually down into the very depths of dulness and low spirits. A
speck in the mist, at last! That's something. It is the boat we
wait for! That's more to the purpose. The captain appears on the
paddle-box with his speaking trumpet; the officers take their
stations; all hands are on the alert; the flagging hopes of the
passengers revive; the cooks pause in their savoury work, and look
out with faces full of interest. The boat comes alongside; the
bags are dragged in anyhow, and flung down for the moment anywhere.
Three cheers more: and as the first one rings upon our ears, the
vessel throbs like a strong giant that has just received the breath
of life; the two great wheels turn fiercely round for the first
time; and the noble ship, with wind and tide astern, breaks proudly
through the lashed and roaming water.
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