When I awoke 'twas to a gray morning. The wind had fallen to half a
gale for stout craft--continuing in the east, the rain gone out of
it. Fog had come upon the islands at dawn; 'twas now everywhere
settled thick--the hills lost to sight, the harbor water black and
illimitable, the world all soggy and muffled. There was a great
noise of breakers upon the seaward rocks. A high sea running without
(they said); but yet my uncle had manned a trap-skiff at dawn (said
they) to put a stranger across to Topmast Point. A gentleman 'twas
(said they)--a gray little man with a red mole at the tip of his
nose, who had lain the night patiently enough at Skipper Eli
Flack's, but must be off at break o' day, come what might, to board
the outside boat for St. John's at Topmast Harbor. He had gone in
high good-humor; crackin' off along o' Skipper Nick (said Eli) like
he'd knowed un all his life. An' Nick? why, ecod! Nick was crackin'
off, too. Never _knowed_ such crackin' off atween strangers. You
could hear the crew laughin' clear t' the narrows. 'Twould be a
lovely cruise! Rough passage, t' be sure; but Nick could take a skiff
through _that_! An' Nick would _drive_ her, ecod! you'd see ol' Nick
wing it back through the narrows afore the night was down if the
wind held easterly. _He'd_ be the b'y t' put she to it!