Page:Cornelia Meigs--The island of Appledore.djvu/17



big willow-trees guarded the entrance to Captain Saulsby’s place, willow-trees with  such huge, rough trunks and such thick,  gnarled branches that they might almost have  been oaks. For fifty years they had bent and rocked before the furious winter storms, had  bowed their heads to the showers of salt spray  and had trembled under the shock of the thundering surf that often broke on the rocks below them. They had seen tempests and wrecks and thrilling rescues upon that stretch  of sea across which they had looked so long,  they had battled with winds that had been too  much for more than one of the ships flying  for shelter to the harbour of Appledore. It was no wonder that they showed the stress of  time. 1