H. B. Marriott Watson,
The Outlaw (Marriott Watson) — V. Cherry Wharf
(1900)
“ I did not like the thought of groping in that water, waist deep (it might be) in the mudbanks, with no certainty of finding firm ground. The pictures of the mud flats at low tide, as I remembered them, rose in my fancy, and made me shudder. I dismissed the thought, and looked up at the wharf again. By this time the chain had descended two or three times, and each time the man in the barge had relieved it of its load; and now it swung idly, waiting to be hauled up by those above, not more than an arm's length from the edge of the cuddy-hole. ”
