TO THE LIGHTHOUSEhalf conscious in her sleep, and then she woke andshot through the waves. The relief was extraordinary.They all seemed to fall away from each other againand to be at their ease and the fishing-lines slantedtaut across the side of the boat. But his father didnot rouse himself. He only raised his right hand mys-teriously high in the air, and let it fall upon his kneeagain as if he were conducting some secret symphony.9[The sea without a stain on it, thought Lily Briscoe,still standing and looking out over the bay. The seais stretched like silk across the bay. Distance had anextraordinary power; they had been swallowed upin it, she felt, they were gone for ever, they had be-come part of the nature of things. It was so calm; itwas so quiet. The steamer itself had vanished, butthe great scroll of smoke still hung in the air anddrooped like a flag mournfully in valediction.]10It was like that then, the island, thought Cam, oncemore drawing her fingers through the waves. She hadnever seen it from out at sea before. It lay like thaton the sea, did it, with a dent in the middle and twosharp crags, and the sea swept in there, and spreadaway for miles and miles on either side of the island.It was very small; shaped something like a leaf stoodon end. So we took a little boat, she thought, begin-ning to tell herself a story of adventure about escapingfrom a sinking ship. But with the sea streaming through218