Dick and I for some time walked the deck, believing that we were keeping watch, and, of course, looking out on every side.
“The wind’s drawing more round to the south’ard,” I heard Truck remark. “If we go about, we shall soon catch sight of the Owers, and one more tack will take us into Saint Helen’s.”
I was very anxious to see the light, because we had seen it before starting to the westward, and it would show us really and truly that we had gone right round England. I continued pacing up and down, in spite of the pitching of our little craft, for I knew if I were
to stop for a moment, I should fall asleep. Of course we kept a sharp lookout, not only for the light, but for any vessels which might be running up Channel or beating down it. At last I heard Truck say:
“There’s the light, sir;” and I made out, a little on our starboard bow, the Owers Light.
“Hurrah!” I exclaimed; “we have been right round England!”
“I can’t make it out,” said Dick, in a drowsy voice. “We’ve been sailing over the plain sea all the time, except when we mounted the locks at the Caledonian Canal. I suppose it is all right though.”
Dick could say no more. I had to take him by the shoulders and help him down the companion ladder. So sleepy was he, that he could scarcely pull off his clothes, and would have turned in fully dressed if I had not helped him.
Next morning, when we awoke and turned out on deck, we were in sight of many a well-known scene. Ryde astern, Cowes on our port quarter; while with a fresh breeze, running past Calshot Castle, we stood up the Southampton Water, and our voyage was over.