Tell me about it dear; for there is nothing which interests you which will not be dear to me - Bram Stoker

As idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean.

There was of course a considerable concussion as the vessel drove up on the sand heap. Every spar, rope, and stay was strained, and some of the `top-hammer' came crashing down. But, strangest of all, the very instant the shore was touched, an immense dog sprang up on deck from below, as if shot up by the concussion, and running forward, jumped from the bow on the sand.

a wind howling began, which seemed to form all over the country, as far as the imagination could grasp it through the gloom of the night.