The Nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a flutter of the sails, and was atrest.

The flood had made, the wind was nearly calm, and being bound down the river, theonly thing for it was to come to and wait for the turn of the tide.The sea-reach of the Thames stretched before us like the beginning of an interminablewaterway.

In the offing the sea and the sky were welded together without a joint, and in theluminous space the tanned sails of the barges drifting up with the tide seemed to stand stillin red clusters of canvas sharply peaked, with gleams of varnished sprits.

A haze rested onthe low shores that ran out to sea in vanishing flatness.

The air was dark above Gravesend,and farther back still seemed condensed into a mournful gloom, brooding motionless overthe biggest, and the greatest, town on earth.The Director of Companies was our captain and our host.

We four affectionately watchedhis back as he stood in the bows looking to seaward.

On the whole river there was nothingthat looked half so nautical.

He resembled a pilot, which to a seaman is trustworthinesspersonified.

It was difficult to realize his work was not out there in the luminous estuary,but behind him, within the brooding gloom.Between us there was, as I have already said somewhere, the bond of the sea.

Besidesholding our hearts together through long periods of separation, it had the effect of makingus tolerant of each other's yarns-and even convictions.

The Lawyer-the best of oldfellows-had, because of his many years and many virtues, the only cushion on deck, andwas lying on the only rug.

The Accountant had brought out already a box of dominoes, andwas toying architecturally with the bones.

Marlow sat cross-legged right aft, leaning againstthe mizzen-mast.

He had sunken cheeks, a yellow complexion, a straight back, an asceticaspect, and, with his arms dropped, the palms of hands outwards, resembled an idol.

Thedirector, satisfied the anchor had good hold, made his way aft and sat down amongst us.We exchanged a few words lazily.

Afterwards there was silence on board the yacht. Forsome reason or other we did not begin that game of dominoes.

We felt meditative, and fitfor nothing but placid staring.

The day was ending in a serenity of still and exquisitebrilliance.

The water shone pacifically; the sky, without a speck, was a benign immensity ofunstained light; the very mist on the Essex marsh was like a gauzy and radiant fabric, hungfrom the wooded rises inland, and draping the low shores in diaphanous folds.

Only thegloom to the west, brooding over the upper reaches, became more sombre every minute, asif angered by the approach of the sun.