Vav. Thy book hath lines both strange and terrible:
Why Mousta, this is arrant sorcery!
How camest thou with such a fearful thing?
Mous. (whispering). An unseen spirit brought it to me—Ay,
Brought it to me. An hour or so ago
I saw a distant boat make for our shores,
The wind was on her bow—she tacked as though
Handled by one well-skilled in such small craft.
Well—on she came—and I awaited her,
Armed with a boat-hook. When within fair hail,