Читать книгу Dick Rodney; or, The Adventures of an Eton Boy онлайн

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The monotonous sound of wave after wave, as they broke on the flat beach, made me think of lands and shores, of people, cities, and adventures far, far away from our quiet old ivy-clad Rectory and its daily routine. Thus, every piece of drift wood, every strange fishbone and mouldered piece of timber which the ocean cast at my feet, became a source of interest for the mind to ruminate upon.

I remember the masts of a sunken vessel being discovered one morning, about two miles from the shore, and they were long a source of speculation to me. A mystery hovered about these rotting spars, these slimy ropes that waved in the sea breeze, and the hull that lay amid the rocks and weeds so far down below.

What was her story, what the fate of her crew, none could guess, as no bodies ever came ashore with the tide.

When a ship appeared at the horizon, my eye followed her until her sails melted into the distant haze, and then it seemed as if spirit and fancy pursued her together upon the world of waters.