Early in the morning we both got up and went down to the harbour to see if anything had happened during the night. There were not many people about. The sun was bright, and the air clear and fresh. Big, ugly-looking waves pushed into the harbour like a man shoving through a crowd. The waves seemed very dark because the foam on the top of them was white as snow. Somehow I felt glad that Jonathan was not on the sea last night, but was on land. But, really I do not know. Is he on land or sea? Where is he, and how is he? I am getting very worried about him. If only I knew what to do, or if I can do anything!

10 August. The poor sea captain was buried today. Every boat in the harbour seemed to be there to see it happen. The coffin was carried by captains all the way from Tate Hill Pier up to the churchyard. Lucy came with me, and we went to our old seat to watch. All the boats went up the river to the Viaduct and came back down again. We had a lovely view, and saw them go nearly all the way. The captain was buried near us. When we stood on our seat we could see everything.