The legendary consisting of original pieces, principally illustrative of American history, scenery, and manners |
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EXTRACTS FROM A SEA BOOK. |
 | EXTRACTS FROM A SEA BOOK. The legendary |  |
EXTRACTS FROM A SEA BOOK.
BY SAMUEL HAZZARD.
`You must leave college,' said the doctor, with an
ominous shake of the head.
I was sitting in my rocking chair; my head bound up
with camphor, and my pulse going like a race horse.
`You must quit college, and that without delay.'
`Quit college!' exclaimed I; `dear doctor! your
remedy is worse than the disease. Quit college! why
I have been here but four months, and am just beginning
to make a figure.'
`Let me tell you, Mark,' replied he with great
seriousness, `that if you stay here, you will be more
likely to figure at a funeral than at an examination.'
There was an earnestness in the doctor's manner that
quelled my impatience, and a chillness in the idea he
suggested, that went to my heart like a bolt of ice.
`But, my dear Pierson,' said I, in a low tone, almost
at a whisper, `do you really think my case dangerous?'
`It is not so bad as it might be, and as it will be,
unless you follow my directions.'
`And supposing it at the worst,' said I, `why should
not I stay here under your care? If there be on earth
a physician that can work my cure, you are surely
the man.'
`My dear boy,' replied he, solemnly, `I cannot
minister to a mind diseased. Let me ask, what can you
do here, if you stay?'
`True, doctor, I have studied none for a fortnight.
My eyes are spoiled, and my head does nothing but
ache.'
`Well, I know you well enough to say, that you
cannot stay here and witness the “march of mind,”
without wishing to join it.'
`True, doctor.'
`Well, then, let me tell you, that of all the disorders
incident to the human system, none does the physician
encounter with more reluctance, and with less success,
than an ambitious spirit chafing with the infirmities of a
diseased body. Medicine will do for a consumptive or a
rheumatic; but your hopeless lover and disabled scholar
are beyond its reach. Therefore, I say, be off as soon
as possible, and banish college and all its associations
from your mind.'
`A Herculean task, that last, doctor;' said I, with a
long drawn sigh. `What in nature shall I do with myself
in my banishment? I cannot bear to be idle.'
`That is the very thing I would have you avoid.
You are already beset with a legion of blue devils; and
if you sit here moping over your misfortunes a week
longer, your head will be a rank Pandemonium. You
must not allow yourself to reflect upon the past. Your
employed in building air-castles of rainbows and moonshine,
than conjuring up around you a desert peopled
with monsters.'
The zeal with which the doctor pressed his point
raised a smile, and melted down my stubbornness like
wax.
`Well, my dear friend,' said I, `you must do with
me as you please. What course shall I adopt in order
to resist the devil effectually?'
Dr Pierson mused a moment and then asked abruptly,
`Were you ever at sea?'
`Once. It was when my father brought me from my
native isle to this country. But I was a child then, and
it is fourteen years ago.'
`So much the better,' said he. `Come! we will
make a shipment of you home. The sea air shall brace
up your weakened nerves, and the novel scenes of ocean
and of the Antilles and the revival of early associations
shall divert your mind from its melancholy. What say
you, Mark,' continued he, giving me a cheerful slap on
on the shoulder, `will you go?'
`Do not doubt it, doctor,' I replied, rising and shaking
myself; `there are still some living in that distant land
who will rejoice to see the wanderer return, and give
him a West Indian welcome. I 'll go, doctor.'
`I will leave you then; and remember, stay not to
repent, but be off on the instant; and, my dear fellow,
may your voyage be prosperous, and may health and
friendship greet you on your arrival at your native land.'
My lot has been cast among strangers; but I thank
God, not in every instance among heartless strangers;
and occasionally have I found men like my good physician,
who, with a tenderness like a woman's, could
administer relief as if they felt compassion for the
limb? If so, thou hast felt the truth of what I say.
But, to be drenched by some starved Lampedo, with a
face colored like his own jalap; or to be hacked and
carved like the carcase of an ox by a grim, bloodthirsty
ruffian, with no more feeling than his own scalpel—
it always appeared to me strange that offended nature
could lend to such inhuman practitioners the cooperation
of her genial influence. Yet are there eminent and
successful operators of this unamiable class. Science
and iron nerves overcome the repugnance of shrinking
humanity, and compel to their service the reluctant
nature. I grant it necessary that the `physician and
surgeon' should possess a sound mind, a steady hand,
and abundance of professional lore; but are either of
these incompatible with the external show of tenderness,
or inseparable from brute harshness and the insensibility
of a stump? And if, under these disadvantages, without
knowing how to touch a tender spot, or to handle a
`bruised reed,' a cure is sometimes effected, how much
more good might be wrought were this knowledge
oftener found united to the mechanical part of the profession!
How much more rapid would be the recovery
of the sick and wounded! How many tears of anguish
might be spared! How many lives saved!
Dr Pierson wrung my hand and left me. I could not
speak, for I loved him as a father. I then addressed
myself in earnest to my preparations, and in six hours
was ready for a voyage of six months. The weather
was thick and rainy, and I returned from the boat to
college. Judge of my surprise and indignation to find
my chum in the act of selling, for a trifling consideration,
the only token of affection which I had left with him,
my three-stringed fiddle. My poor old fiddle, that I
would not have exchanged for the royal harp of David!
it for its very oddity. Oh! human nature!
The `Seabird' was under weigh. As I went on
deck she was lying, with her canvass spread to court
the salutations of the rising breeze, midway between
Governor's and Staten Island. Day had just dawned,
and the gray mists of morning hung like a veil of
enchantment over the distant city, revealing faintly its
edifices, its spires, and the dense forests of spars that
lined its shores. An hundred vessels, which the indications
of a favorable breeze had induced to quit their
moorings, lay motionless on every side of us, looking
like snow-white birds, who had come forth from their
secret places at that witching hour to sport on the
unruffled bosom of the bay. At that moment our sails
hung listlessly against the masts, and the exhalations
that curled upon the waters rose perpendicularly to the
upper regions of the air. Soon, however, they began to
flutter and chafe with the rigging as if impatient at the
tardy movements of the wind, till, as it came murmuring
from the Jersey shore, mist and ripples and ships were
moving swiftly towards a point, which, in the dimness of
the hour, seemed the opening into another world.
We soon reached it, and the perilous scene of our
future labors opened before us. Here our voyage was
to begin; and, with the idea, came the rush of emotions
which a landsman must always experience on launching
for the first time upon the bosom of the great deep.
I can hardly analyze my feelings of that hour; there
was a mixture of joy and regret in them.
I now turned to look for the lighthouse. It had disappeared;
and the vessels in whose company we had
sailed were scattered, like a frighted flock, towards
every corner of heaven. The breeze freshened; we
were shaping our solitary course for Turk's Island.
leaving the coast, formed but a small arc in the immense
horizon, and, at length, the beams of the setting sun
lighted on nothing but our own little vessel and the blue
waters that rolled around us. The eye, unused to the
vast and monotonous scene, could find nothing to fix
upon but a bright cloud far away in the west, which
rested like some island of happy spirits, on the bosom of
that golden sea into which the sun had just descended.
`And now,' thought I, `I am in the world alone—
upon “the wide, wide sea.”'
`We have every prospect of a favorable passage,'
said a voice near me; and for the first time since I
embarked I recollected that I was not the only passenger
on board. The speaker was a venerable gentleman
of some three score years, with silver locks and a countenance
expressive of amiable feelings, though careworn
and melancholy. On his arm leaned a small and
extremely graceful female figure, to whom his remark
had been addressed, and both were gazing in the direction
where the waters were still flashing with the living
splendors of the sunset.
`Beautiful!' at length exclaimed the lady, without
seeming to heed what the other had said. `How lovely
is this scene, my dear father. And see, what a beautiful
cloud! Does it not remind you of Magawisca's “isles
of the sweet southwest?”'
Who has not felt the magic of a voice? I had not
seen the speaker, and yet her tones came over me like
a pleasant music. They were deeper than the ordinary
tones of woman, and at this moment tremulous with
enthusiasm.
`You are the child of imagination, my dear Mary,'
said her father, affectionately, passing his arm round
her waist; `would to Heaven you were less so.'
`But,' said she, in a mournful tone, `I do not always
indulge in gay fancies.'
`True, my dear; your feelings change their hues as
often and as suddenly as the clouds of heaven. See
yonder; your enchanted island has already lost its
golden mantle, and now lies brooding on the breast of
the sea a dusky and threatening bank of fog. You will
now as easily people it with the demons of the storm,
as when gilded by the sunbeams with the spirits of the
blest. Thus suddenly do you pass from the brightest
dreams of happiness to the darkest forebodings. I repeat,
would to Heaven you were less the child of
imagination! You had been happier.'
The father, in alluding to her constitutional weakness,
had probably awakened distressing recollections; for
she hung her head and withdrew from his arm, and
when I approached to get a view of her face, her eyes
were filled with tears. She turned away quickly on
seeing a stranger. But that view was enough. I have
spoken of the magic of a voice, but what is it to the
human face!
`You seem interested with the singular deportment
of my daughter,' observed the old gentleman as she
retired.
I started, I believe in some confusion.
`She has just risen from a bed of sickness,' he continued,
with a melancholy accent; `and I am fearful
will never be herself again.'
`If I were to judge of her malady from her appearance,'
said I, `I should say that the mind has had more
to do than bodily infirmities with the ruin which has
been wrought in that lovely countenance.'
`You are right, Sir,' replied he, with a sigh—`her
illness was occasioned by mental anguish, the cause of
which is buried deep in both our hearts. Suffice it to
and that when a youth of high promise immolates himself
on the altar of the disgusting fiend, tears and broken
hearts attend the sacrifice.'
The old man spoke with mournful energy and I pitied
him.
`Is there no hope of the reformation of such an one?'
I inquired.
`In this case none. It is more than six months since
William Ashton fled from society and went to sea as a
common mariner. The presence, the devoted affection,
the tears of my child could not reclaim him—what then
can?'
`What, indeed!' repeated I. `And this voyage is
undertaken for the recovery of her health? You will
excuse my inquisitiveness,' I immediately added, `I
have lived long enough in your country to acquire her
characteristic mode of questioning.'
`I hold it every man's duty as well as interest,' said
he, `whose lot it is to travel on the great deep, far from
his home and kindred, to relate so much of his own history
as shall entitle him to the sympathy and confidence
of the companions of his voyage. I am a Scotchman,
and my name is Douglas.'
`My name,' said I, `is Brae, and I am a Freshman
in — College; you have my whole history.'
The shadows of night had settled over the solitary
waste before we parted for the night. Many leagues
of sea had been ploughed in that short period, as the
ship, yielding to the impulse of the powerful breeze,
dashed on her way over the billows. Three days of
this propitious wind brought us off “the Hatteras,” and
though at the distance of three hundred miles from land,
we received the usual greeting of the Cape, and were
obliged to do homage to its strong spirit, under bare
poles, for several hours.
It will be supposed by those of my readers who will
have the charity to consider me a man of taste, that
during these three days I had not avoided the society
of Mary Douglas and her father. If I may so speak
without being misunderstood, or expressing my meaning
too strongly, I had become quite a favorite. I found
her mind all that her countenance had promised. Her
sufferings had been cruel; sufficiently severe, indeed,
to cause a temporary alienation of her reason, but
its only remaining trace was an occasional wildness
of the eye and an imagination highly and sometimes
painfully susceptible of excitement. In her moments
of animation it was delightful to stand by her side, leaning
on the tafferel, and behold the world of romance
her playful fancy would call up above and around us.
Each golden cloud, touched by the magic of her tongue,
floated in the element a fairy palace of aerial spirits.
The ocean and everything visible on its surface, the
finny herds that glided through its depths, were all made
to assist in supporting, and adorning, and peopling her
ideal world.
`See,' she exclaimed, pointing with her delicate finger
to one of those curious marine animals called the `Portuguese
man of war,' `yonder is a bark fit for the flag
ship of Queen Mab's high admiral.'
`Her majesty has a squadron on the waters this
morning,' said I, `for yonder come a dozen more.'
The beautiful creatures, who have been taught by nature
a noble art which the pride of man would arrogate
to himself, with their bodies low in the water like a deep
freighted ship, and their purple sails distended with air
like a balloon, passed us slowly and gracefully, most
gallantly bearing up into the wind. `You have extended
the fairy queen's dominion,' continued I; `I never
suspected before that she made any pretensions to the
empire of Neptune.'
`And why not?' she quickly replied. `Why should
every green grove and hill side be trodden by myriads
of invisible and tiny sprites, and fancy refuse her aid to
people these blue depths? There are fairies on land,'
she continued, smiling, `and fairies I am determined
there shall be at sea.'
`You have only to wave your wand, enchantress,' said
I in her own vein, `and we shall see not only their
mimic fleets, but Queen Mab herself, and her whole
“corps de ballet,” dancing on the crest of every wave.”
Her father was happy to see her possess even the
shadow of enjoyment. `You will not have many days
to revel in these watery realms of fairy land,' said he,
`if we go on at this rate.'
The propitious and powerful breeze that had brought
us out of port, and which had, temporarily, been put to
the rout by a counter and more violent gust from the
Hatteras, had now revived, and came sweeping from
the northeast in a steady gale. Swift flew the `Seabird'
on her snowy wing, dashing recklessly through
the exulting elements, as if anxious to redeem the time
that had been lost in port.
`It is a phenomenon which I have never heard satisfactorily
explained,' observed Mr Douglas, `that some
parts of the ocean should be subject to the almost perpetual
dominion of the tempest, and others be as remarkable
for their calmness. Now this part, which we
are leaving so rapidly, is styled by mariners the stormy
latitudes; and justly; for I have made more than six
voyages between the West Indies and New York, and
never did I pass the shores of America between the
latitudes of thirtyfive and thirty degrees, without experiencing
more or less bad weather.'
`Captain Ben. Starboard, that I made my first
voyage under,' said the captain, in his broad, heavy
thunder and lightning; and right enough, as Mr Douglas
says; for I believe the surly gentleman who has his
moorings on the shoals of the Cape, but who often takes
a cruise as far as Bermuda, burns more of heaven's
gunpowder than any other man along shore.'
`If you want to see thunder works in real style,' said
a grim old seaman at the helm, `though to say the truth
I've seen it crack and blaze a couple of degrees to the
leeward in a manner to make a man think his ship engaged
with a first rate; but if you want to see it in
what I call real sea style, you must haul upon this wind
till you cross the ocean, then take a sheer through the
straits till you find a piece of water called the Gulf of
Lyons. There, in a squall, the clouds hang so low and
heavy that you can't tell whether the fire comes out of
the heavens, or the waters; and the thunder sounds for
all the world as if father Neptune and all his regiment
of sea-born devils, had clapped their heads above the
water, and were giving you your last hail into etern—.'
`Mind your hel-um, old Jack Cable,' said the captain,
sternly, breaking the old tar's figure in two.
Still blew our brave northeaster.
`Don't you call this the regular trade wind?' asked
Mr Douglas.
`You never take the trades north of twentyseven or
eight;' replied the captain, `and we are just passing
Bermuda.'
But, trades or not, certain it is that this fine eight
knot breeze lasted from the twentyfifth of April to the
first of May; and carried us from the latitude of Cape
Charles past the boisterous realm of Hatteras, through
the calm and weedy waters that leave the northern
shores of the great Bahama chain, into that beautiful
strait on one side of which rise the cloud capped summits
blue line of Cuba.
Perhaps it would be difficult to find a section of the
sea more calm and beautiful than the portion extending
from the limits of the stormy latitudes to that long
sweep of sand keys and rocky islets, that skirt the
northern shores of the monarch of the Antilles. It is
frequently more placid than the seaman loves, and is
covered with beautiful weeds brought by the Gulf Stream
and other currents from the Bahamas and the shores of
Florida. Thousands of acres of it were floating round
us; sometimes in broad, compact bodies, miles in extent,
then, in long narrow beds, as regular as if laid out by
the hand of man.
`This surely must be Neptune's garden,' said the
delighted Mary; `here are all the plants of the rock,
all the blossoms of the sea collected.'
`Beautiful as they are, my dear,' said her father,
`they have frighted stouter hearts than yours. When
the sailors of Columbus found themselves surrounded
as we are, they began to think that they had passed the
limits of navigation or reached the end of the world,
and that their ship would finally be fetered in the midst
of these unknown seas, as a monument of the vengeance
of Heaven for the temerity of their leader.'
On the twentyeighth of April we crossed the tropic.
As all but Miss Douglas had passed it before, the sailors
reluctantly consented to dispense with the usual rites
in honor of his aquatic majesty. Early the next morning,
a pair of uncouth looking birds, styled, in nautical
ornithology, Neptune's doves, and known on land as
the beautiful white bird of the tropics, made their appearance.
After reconnoitering us fore and aft, without
deigning any reply to our hail of what news from their
master, the outlandish strangers flew off to the southward.
shook his head.
`Ah! my lads,' said he `I knew that no good would
come of not paying your compliments to the commodore
yesterday. You never see his fowls but when there is
some bad luck stirring, and if you don't hear from it
before we make Turks Island, you may set me adrift
before a twenty knot breeze, in a leaky long-boat.'
But notwithstanding the prognostications of evil, and
though the sea-god's constable, John Shark, came
prowling round us at evening, we arrived safe the next
day at the dreary Isle of Salt.
Turks Island is a most dismal looking spot. It is
too low to be seen farther than five or six miles, and we
were accordingly obliged to lie to, the preceding night,
to avoid running it down. A description of this island
will apply to most of the other Bahamas in its neighbourhood.
They are mere sand banks. But the most
rugged districts of our earth are the richest in mineral
treasures, and the ocean strews its rarest gems on the
shores of the most desolate islands. On the sands and
rocks of the Bahamas are found the rarest tinted shells
and the finest specimens of coral. Ours, however, was
not a voyage of pleasure nor of scientific research.
We glided rapidly past the solitary isle, and were the
next morning close in by St Domingo.
And here, as if during the night we had been translated
to another planet, everything was new and full of
wonder. Our eyes had been used to nothing but the
tame scenery of the southern section of New England
and New York. Judge, then, of our astonishment,
when more than the most eloquent pens have written,
or the most vivid fancy conceived of the wonders of the
tropics, burst upon us in the full reality of vision. The
giant mountains formed the grandest feature of the
of the whitest mist, above which their summits rose, like
islands of the upper world from an etherial ocean. The
deep hue of the forests which told that they never wore
other dress than green, the myriads of strange sea fowl
that screamed around us, the very color of the water
was that of a new climate. At length, the sun rose
with a splendor that is never witnessed north of the
tropics, pouring a broad and almost intolerable flood of
light upon the scene, flashing through the clouds and
along the waters like living fire. The sea of vapor
seemed to heave, and mounting higher till it caught the
sunbeams, circled the head of each fantastic peak with
a diadem glowing with a thousand dyes.
Our breeze was now leaving us. We spread all sail
to catch its last flutters, but soon relinquished the hope
of proceeding far that day; for the grampus, the sure
precursor of calms, now came tumbling his huge form
towards us, and when we reached the middle of the
Windward Passage, the green turtle, whom the slightest
movement in air or water frights to the caverns of the
deep, might be seen sunning himself on the surface of
the sea. It was then that we felt, for the first time,
the full power of a tropical sun. In the cabin the mercury
stood at one hundred and ten degrees, in the sun
at one hundred and thirty degrees; and when it is
remembered that we had left the North American shore
only ten days before, in the wintry month of April, it
will be readily imagined that our sufferings from the
heat were extreme. But as regularly as the curtain of
evening fell,
And orange groves and fields of balm,
Blew o'er the Haytien seas,'
we spent this and the two succeeding nights, creeping
like nocturnal birds from our coverts in the cabin or
beneath a sail.
There is nothing that a seaman loves less than a calm.
The rushing of the wind, in a small hurricane, is far
more welcome if it only blow the right way; and peculiarly
aggravating is it to be becalmed within sight of
his destined haven. We could not as yet see Jamaica,
but along the southwestern quarter of the horizon lay a
pile of dusky clouds which the captain assured us was
the loom of that island. The reader will not wonder,
then, if, in our circumstances, all the strange oaths and
imprecations found in a seaman's vocabulary, were called
into service by our nettlesome captain and his crew,
and hurled without mercy on the winds and weather.
`You may have more wind than you want before
you reach Kingston moorings,' said I, a little nettled
at their absurd conduct.
`Blow—blow—let it blow!' roared the captain; `I
would rather go to the bottom at once, than lie here
roasting in this sun that 's enough to cook a Guineaman.
Besides, Mr Brae,' added he, in a milder tone, and
pointing to the northwest, `yonder is Cape Maise, the
eastern end of Cuba, not fifteen miles off. Two hours
rowing would bring us off a gang of the picarooning
rascals to cut our throats if we should n't happen to hit
their fancy; and though this good ship is called the
Seabird, she is one of that kind which can 't rise without
a swell. I say then let it blow.' So saying he took his
glass and went into the main top, from whence he might
be seen for an hour reconnoitering the Cuba shore.
It was, as I have already stated, the fourth afternoon
of the calm. Impatience was visible in almost every
face. But my feelings agreed perfectly with the weather.
as in the elements. Mary Douglas was there; it was
enough; I felt not the sun; I feared no pirates.
Mistake me not, gentle reader. I do not say that I
was in love, for on the doctrine of tender sentiments,
I entertain some skeptical, perhaps treasonable ideas.
I only found myself strangely fascinated, was glad I
was just there, and as I was. I pitied Mary Douglas,
and would have done much to have made her happy.
She seemed better than when we sailed, but well or substantially
happy she certainly was not. Still that hectic
glow would appear on her cheek and flutter and depart
like the tints of sunset, leaving it colorless as marble.
I would have given worlds to have placed the rose in its
stead. She lived in a world of fancy, and beautifully
would she deck the objects of her own creation; but
then there would come a revulsion in her feelings, a
deep dejection, when one who studied her speaking
countenance might rightly conceive that fancy, aided by
memory, that busy fiend, was conjuring up a far different
scene. Oh! how has my heart yearned, as I have
gazed upon her in these sad moments, for power to extract
the worm that had taken such deep hold upon her
peace; to recall her to a world she was so eminently
qualified to bless and adorn, and that should no longer
fright her from its stern realities by dreadful images of
the past.
She had closed her book and I had been sitting by
her side, I know not how long, perhaps an hour. Our
conversation had been interesting, but of its subject I
have only a confused recollection.
`Say no more, Mr Brae,' said she, rising; `I should
be weak to deny that I understand you; but,' looking
up in my face with a melancholy smile, `you know
something of my past history; you know that I once
cheeks; `but he proved himself unworthy, and I tore
him from my heart! But oh! in doing this, think you
that I did not rend my heart strings?' She left me in
tears, and retired to her cabin, adding only as she passed,
`My heart is crushed, Mr Brae, I feel that I can never
love again.'
The sun had settled far towards the Mexican Gulf
before Captain Boltrop came down from his look-out.
Standing on the quarter deck, he again looked long and
anxiously to the westward.
`There is that between us and that shore,' he at
length said, `that I dread more than I would that shore
in a hurricane off San Domingo.'
`I thought that nothing could be more terrible to a
seaman than a gale of wind upon a lee shore,' observed
Mr Douglas.
`I had rather fall into the sea than into the hands of
a bloodthirsty picaroon,' said the captain very decidedly,
and with an air of great meaning.
Just then the splendid luminary dipped its flaming
circle in the waters of the Caribbean sea.
`There is a spot in the sun,' I exclaimed.
The captain looked at it a moment, and then smiling
grimly, `Ay, a spot, and a dark one too,' said he;
`watch it, Mr Brae, and see if it sets.'
The dark object, which appeared on the very disc of
the sun, and which I had taken for one of those spots
that are occasionally seen on his surface, instead of
sinking behind the bright and level waters with the part
of the luminary on which it was first observed, seemed
to mount upwards, and after lingering a moment on the
last visible arch of the glorious orb, it sprang into that
pure and glowing element which the sun had shed along
the western horizon. It wavered for a moment between
to attach itself, till, as the flashings of the dying light
became fainter, it appeared on the sea, a dark and
motionless speck.
`The sun has found water to wash him clear of your
spot, Mr Brae,' said the captain, with another of his
mysterious smiles; `I wish to God it had sunk with him.'
An air of deep care settled over his face. I knew
not what to make of him or of his words.
`Why, what do you take that speck to be?' I at
length inquired.
`Look for yourself, Mr Brae,' said he.
I took the glass from his hand, and examined the dim
distant object. `It is a boat, captain!'
`Ay, a boat!' echoed he, `and coming for us as fast
as twelve stout rowers can shove her through the water.
Now you know why I wished for a wind, and a hard
wind too.'
The beautiful twilight of the tropics had now settled,
in all its softness, over the quiet bosom of the deep.
The heights of Cuba rose majestically from its crystal
depths, boldly lifting their pointed peaks to the spotless
heavens, and I fancied that I could hear the small wave
break upon its coral strand, with a murmur as soft as if it
had never washed from those shores the stains of crime.
The heavy loom in the southwest, as if it had only
waited to grace the setting of the king of day, after
glittering for a moment in a thousand gorgeous colors,
settled behind the heaving breast of ocean, leaving only
a dark mass like a church with its spire in bold relief
against the sky. It no sooner caught our captain's eye
than he shouted, with as much rapture as a seaman ever
allows himself to express, `The Blue Mountain Peak
of Jamaica!'
The cry was echoed with enthusiasm by a dozen joyful
voices. We were still one hundred miles from the
island, and were not gaining an inch on our way towards
it; still, every eye was turned to it with affection as to
a long sought home, and an emotion awoke even in my
breast, distinct from those which, of late, had usurped
its entire possession. The whole view to the westward
was beauty, unbroken by a single blemish, and nothing
of alarm was there save the dark spot on the sea to
which so suspicious a character had been attached by
our captain, but which had already disappeared in the
increasing darkness of the hour. But the east, as if
envious of the tranquillity that reigned in the opposite
quarter, wore a savage scowl. Enormous piles of vapor,
black as the smoke from a volcano's crater, shrouded
the heights of St Domingo, and blotted out the very
shores from our view. It looked indeed as if the island
had sunk, and another of subterranean formation had
risen from the depths of the sea to fill its place.
`I would give a month's wages,' said the captain,
with an air of deep thought, `if we could have that
squall upon us within an hour.'
I stared at him with a feeling between contempt and
astonishment.
`You doubtless do honor to a seaman's taste,' said I,
drily; `for my part, I dislike my fellow creatures so
little, that I would rather see a piratical privateer within
gun-shot than encounter the contents of yonder mass of
solid darkness.'
`It may be proved before you leave the ship, Mr Brae,'
replied he with great coolness, `that I fear the face of
man as little as another.' Then turning to the whole
ship's company, with very considerable dignity, `Gentlemen
and shipmates,' said he, `I have reason to apprehend
that danger is at hand. The boat that is putting
certainly full; for I have lived too long on the sea not
to know the glitter of arms in the sun. It is more than
probable that she has comrades; for would one open
boat venture to attack a vessel of our size? Something
has been hinted about fear, and, to say the truth, I had
rather run than meet these gentry. But that is out of
the question, and fight we must as long as there is a
man to stand at one of those brass guns, or to pull a
trigger.'
Three cheers were the echo to this chivalric speech;
and not a moment was lost in preparing to give the
pirate a warm reception. A formidable show of miscellaneous
articles of warfare was drawn from the secret
places of the ship, and there were finally mustered
on deck fifteen men, twenty stands of arms, and two
brass cannon. These last, after being wheeled to the
starboard side of the quarter deck, and charged nearly
to the muzzle, were thrust through port-holes towards
the quarter from whence our foes were expected. Our
small arms were loaded with three balls each—every
man girded with a cutlass and a brace of pistols—and
the captain even carried his precaution so far as to have
the railings, bulwarks, and sides of the ship well slushed,
in order to give a slippery foothold if they attempted
boarding.
After all this bustle of preparation, every man posted
himself in a situation to command a view of the whole
prospect to the westward, and a look-out was stationed
in every top. By this time night had drawn her curtain
close around the scene, and no trace of the sun's existence
remained but in his pale-faced representative,
now riding near her meridian. For an hour no sound
broke the deep silence that reigned throughout the ship.
Not a murmur to excite alarm, or even suspicion, arose
to believe that any being could be found daring enough
to disturb a tranquillity so deep and holy.
`It is a lovely hour,' said Mary, in a whisper, as if
afraid to trust her voice. `Can there be danger?'
`It is just such an hour as man selects for the exercise
of his evil genius,' replied I, in her own tone.
Then came the land wind from Cuba, `shaking a
thousand odors from its dewy wings.'
`Can it be possible,' again said Mary, `that an air
which breathes of Araby, and which fans us as lightly
as does the mother's breath her sleeping infant—that
this pure and gentle element can cradle the hurricane,
and nurture the seeds of pestilence?'
`Just as possible, and as true, as that these beautiful
islands are peopled by the most unlovely of all the human
race. Look there,' continued I, pointing eastward,
`for proof in part of what I say.'
The gigantic piles of vapor remained motionless as
rocks of adamant, resembling more the black smoke of
some smouldering mine of coal than exhalations of the
sun's raising. No lightning glanced from its bosom.
The feeble and timorous moonbeams were unable to
penetrate its dark depths, only faintly silvering their
edges, and rendering visible and more gloomy the blackness
below.
`There is the hurricane in a visible shape,' said I.
Still the dark mass moved not, but stood upon the
waters, motionless, and black as a mountain of infernal
elements.
Hour after hour rolled on and the scenes on either
hand continued the same. Suspense had rendered the
men fretful and impatient, and after straining in vain to
discover some dim trace of the foe or to detect the dip
of their oars, many had closed their eyes in slumber.
The hour of midnight came and the moon was fast
sinking towards the sea. Like the rest I had become
weary.
`Well, captain,' said I, `what has become of our
friends from Cuba?'
`Gone to Davy's locker, I hope,' replied he; `but
there is no knowing how to calculate for the rascals, so
we had better keep a sharp look out yet.'
`For my part,' said I, `I am tired with looking at
nothing, and will just see how the squall comes on.' I
turned accordingly and a flashing on the water rising
and disappearing in quick and regular succession, met
my eye.
`There they are!' exclaimed the captain, whose eye
had taken the direction of mine; `the rascals have rowed
clear round us, and are coming on from the San
Domingo side. Stand to your arms, boys! the rogues
are upon us.'
In an instant every man was at his post, and on the
alert.
`Stand in the shadow of the spars and rigging to be
out of sight,' continued the captain, `and not a man of
you fire till I give the word.'
`Ay, ay, Sir!' responded the crew with nautical
precision.
`And now,' said the captain, who really went to
work in a business style, `let us get this gun on the
other tack, Mr Brae, to be ready for the gentlemen.'
The piece was accordingly soon seen to thrust its
deadly muzzle through the opposite port, keeping a dead
aim on the boat, which, like an alligator, cautiously
dropped towards us, at less than a quarter of a mile's
distance.
`Strange,' said I, `that the fellows should choose to
row against the moon when by so doing they must know
we should see the glitter of their oars.'
`I suspect,' replied the captain, `that they had no
choice about it. You forgot that we have had more or
less wind off the land since sunset, and are at least six
miles from where we were then. The probability is that
the rogues lost us after nightfall—so, as the Paddy says,
when they came where we were, we were not there.
But it seems they have found us at last.'
The boat was now very near us. Still not a sound
came from her. The closest and most painful attention
could not hear the dip of her oars, which rose and fell
like a piece of mechanism, glittering in the moonlight
like blades of silver.
`Boat ahoy!' cried the voice of Capt. Boltrop in its
most startling tones. No answer was returned to this
summons and the oars, were played more lively. `Keep
off! you d—d rascals,' again shouted our commander—
`off! or I'll blow you out of the water!'
This threat and the firebrand which I flourished with
great fierceness seemed to make the pirate hesitate.
The motion of the boat was arrested. Captain Boltrop
thought the victory already achieved and he again raised
his voice in tones of authority;—
`Throw your arms overboard, and come along side.'
A volley of musketry was the reply to this summons,
and a dozen balls whistled by and the captain's hat flew
across the deck. A deep imprecation burst from his
lips. The next instant a broad stream of flame issued
from the quarter deck, and the explosion of the piece
broke upon the dead stillness of the elements with a
noise like thunder. A distant crash, a heavy splashing
in the water, above which a cry of mortal agony was
terribly distinct, had arisen in the direction of the foe
see the effect of one shot. No boat was then to be
seen, nor any trace of her crew; we had probably sent
every soul into eternity.
`By George!' cried the captain with something like
compunction in his tone, and rubbing his head with his
handkerchief, `I would rather have taken the rascals and
had them decently hanged than send them to the bottom
in this off-hand manner. You could'nt have made
a better shot, Mr Brae, if you—'
A horrid yell, rising apparently from the very depths
beneath the ship, stopped him in the middle of his
speech. A boat glided out of the smoke, and, shooting
under our bows, a dozen dark forms were seen springing
from it to the side of the ship. But our precautions
had been wisely taken, and were completely successful.
No sooner did they touch the slippery vessel, than most
of them, with the most horrid blasphemies, fell back into
the sea, snapping their pistols at us even after they were
filled with water. At the same moment their boat, which
had been completely riddled by our shot, filled and sunk
to the bottom. Three only got upon deck and were immediately
overpowered and secured. Five more were
with difficulty dragged out of the water and disposed of
in the same manner. One powerful fellow, however,
was not so easily quelled. He had succeeded in getting
one foot upon deck, when a young seaman, named
Ralph, flew at him with the fierceness of a tiger. They
clenched, and after balancing a moment between the
deck and the water, the pirate, who was much the heavier
man, fell backwards overboard, dragging his antagonist
with him. They both sunk, but soon rose again about
four rods from the ship clinging closely together. Then
commenced a combat the most singular and appalling
I had ever witnessed. No one on board seemed to
one dared to fire upon the pirate; for so closely were they
coiled together, so rapid were their evolutions, and so
dim the light shed by the moon, that it was impossible
to hit one without endangering the life of the other.
At the commencement of the struggle, their efforts
seemed to be aimed solely at drowning each other.
They whirled over on the top of the water, dashing
it about like wounded sharks. Both then sunk and
were for a while lost to our sight. Presently they rose
again, and exchanged thick and heavy blows, and closing
with redoubled fury sunk again. Neglecting to use
their weapons, which would have put a speedy end to
the fray, they fought more like savage beasts of prey,
bent on throttling each other, than like human beings.
`Shall we stand and see our man murdered?' at
length exclaimed a voice from among the crew. It operated
like magic to break the spell that had fallen upon
us all.
`Clear away the boat there!' shouted the captain,
and six men sprang to execute the order. Just then,
after an effort of unusual fierceness, both of the combatants
sunk. They remained out of sight so long, that
the men who were letting down the boat, suspended
their operations, and we all stood breathless with uncertainty
and anxiety awaiting their reappearance. At
length, about thirty yards off, the waters parted; but
only one man was seen to rise.
`Is it you, Ralph?' cried the captain in a suppressed
voice.
`Here is some of him at least on my knife-blade,' responded
the freebooter with the accent and laugh of a
fiend; and springing nearly to his whole height out of
water, he threw the weapon, with great force towards
us. It passed over our heads and striking the mizen
wood.
Another hollow laugh rang over the waters, and on
looking round, wide circles of ripples were seen moving
on the face of the moonlit sea, as if some heavy body had
just sunk into it. Vengeance was the tardy thought that
now rushed on every heart. Some, in the blinded fury
of the moment, actually discharged their pieces into the
centre of those waving eddies, without staying to reflect
upon its utter uselessness. Others, with their guns in
readiness, and eyes glaring upon the sea like panthers
robbed of their prey, stood prepared to fire the moment
he should show his head above the water. But he rose
no more. The winged messengers of death that had
been aimed at his life, sped harmlessly over his head,
and had it been possible to penetrate the secrets of the
great deep, he might have been seen reposing peacefully
on its sandy bottom by the side of his late antagonist.
A sullen silence pervaded the ship. The men looked
gloomily at each other, and with lowering brows on their
helpless prisoners, as if a sufficient atonement had not
been rendered for the life of their comrade. To one
skilled in the language of the human countenance, it
was evident that nothing but the restraint of discipline
held them back from a summary act of vengeance and
of crime, that would have sunk them to a level with the
pirates themselves.
Judging of the feelings of his crew from their looks,
or more probably from his own, and anxious to remove
the temptation to evil, the captain ordered our eight
prisoners to be stowed under the hatches, and they were
accordingly tumbled in with very little ceremony.
How many of this band of genuine desperadoes had
been lost, we had no means of ascertaining; for our
prisoners either did not, or would not understand English
twelve to sixteen men were distinctly visible, and the
yell that followed our discharge was such as is never
extorted from mortal man but by the pangs of the last
agony. Six or eight, then, of the freebooters had certainly
perished. What chance of success they might
fancy that an open boat could have against a vessel of
the size of ours, it completely bewildered us to imagine.
They must either have been intoxicated, or in the situation
of a beast of prey, whom the goadings of hunger
will compel to rush upon a foe from whose face he would
otherwise have fled. Viewing it in either light it was
an act of the most daring hardihood. Our victory,
though complete, as has been already seen, was blood-bought.
Early in the engagement a ball had also carried
away our captain's hat, making a lane through his
hair and raking up the skin in a frightful manner; and
I have a scar on my chin and another on my temple at
the service of any who doubt the truth of this narrative.
From the firing of the first gun to the depositing of our
prisoners in the hold, not more than ten minutes had
elapsed. The struggle had been fierce and boisterous,
but it had passed. The ship was restored to her usual
tranquillity and was moving before a gentle breeze from
the shore, yet so slowly as scarcely to scar the face of
the ocean.
The noise of the conflict had called up the terrified
inmates of the cabin; and all the ship's company were
now assembled on deck, silent, but too deeply affected
with the scene just passed to sleep more that night.
Mary was there; her cheeks flushed with the excitement
which the events of the night had occasioned.
Still occasionally a cold shudder would rush through
her frame, as she murmured, in a suppressed voice—
`That fearful cry!—I shall never forget it.'
She was in a state of high nervous agitation. Her
eye shone with uncommon lustre and glanced over the
sea unsteadily.
`The elements are to have their turn next,' said she.
Her eye was bent upon the scowling east. The
same motionless body of clouds was there, black as before.
Around it were rapidly revolving others of a wild
and ragged look, stained by the setting moon with the
color of brass. Others of the same hue were shooting
off from the main body, and moving rapidly towards the
zenith, like the advanced squadrons of an army. Then
the moon went down, leaving the ocean to a darkness
that accorded well with the portentous aspect of the
heavens. The intermitted breathings of the spicy west
wind, ceased entirely, and an appalling stillness in the
elements ensued. The water began to assume a most
singular appearance. Those who have seen on the
coast the rippling produced by an immense shoal of
white-fish, can form some idea of its agitation. The
dashing of a bucket would cover its surface with a
thousand sparkling points, and a shoal of berneta passing
rapidly, looked like balls of meteoric fire shooting
through the depths of the sea.
A low creaking sound from the rigging and the warning
voice of the captain, announced that the long expected
onset of the winds was at hand, and I had just time
to hand Mary to the cabin, when the ship was bending
low upon her side by the pressure of a furious gust.
No precaution which prudence and experience suggested,
to put the ship in a condition to grapple safely with
her powerful adversary, had been omitted by our wary
commander. No canvass was spread aloft but the three
close reefed topsails. A large detachment of those
brassy clouds before mentioned, had passed the zenith
when the first squall struck us. It lasted but a minute.
into ribbands, and they were borne away like feathers
on the wings of the blast. A dead calm and `a horror
of great darkness' succeeded. A hollow, whispering
sound, like the moan of spirits in the air, was heard and
numerous little balls of pale light gleamed and vanished
on the dark canopy which had now completely invested
the heavens.
`We shall have it soon,' observed the captain in a
calm, low voice.
Scarcely had he spoken, when a meteor of uncommon
size and splendor, shot from a point near the zenith, and,
glancing across the dark back ground of the east, sunk
into the sea. Then the wailing voices in the air were
multiplied. A sound arose in the distance as of cavalry
rushing to battle, and every sense was drowned in the
roar of winds and the dash of waters. Like other
landsmen I had read of storms and tempests, of mountain
waves lashed into fury; but what description can
do justice to the terrific truth of such a scene, or who
that is a stranger to the ways of God on the mighty
deep, can form even a faint idea of all that is meant by
a `storm at sea!'
The hurricanes of these seas are as shortlived as
they are violent. The dawn of day showed no trace of
the tempest that had deformed the night, but the tattered
rigging and well washed deck of our own vessel. Cuba
and St Domingo had sunk beneath the horizon, and
other heights on our right were lifting their misty
heads almost to the zenith. Within a mile of us lay a
sloping shore clothed with brilliant green to the water's
edge. No naked sand hills marred the beauty of the
landscape. All was green, save where, occasionally,
a rising eminence or an opening vale presented its
painted sugar works and breeze mills.
To form a back ground to this picturesque region
rose the magnificent range of the Blue Mountains.
`The Peak' is ten thousand feet high, and is certainly
one of the most beautiful elevations on the globe. It
stands in the centre of a circle of smaller mountains,
like a monarch surrounded by his ministers of state.
Along its base spots of red are seen, which, on near
approach, prove to be coffee plantations. A belt of
clouds embraces its middle, while its sharp summit,
crowned with impenetrable forests, enjoys perpetual
sunshine, and looks over half of the Caribbean sea.
`If there be an Eden on earth,' said I, `we have it
before us.'
`The sun shines not,' observed Mr Douglas, `on an
island more beautiful than Jamaica; and but for man,
who seems to have marked out the fairest portions of
God's earth for the exercise of his worst passions, it
might justly be styled a terrestrial paradise.'
The remark was just and striking. In taking a survey
of the world, it is not upon the beauties of the landscape
merely that the mind most delights to dwell.
And although, like the features of a stranger's face,
they are the first objects that meet and interest its attention,
yet recollecting that it is man who stamps a
character on all things here below, it turns from them
to contemplate the manners of society. In a community
of virtuous and enlightened freemen, it discovers
a moral grandeur and beauty surpassing everything in
the natural world. The pride of the forest must stoop
to time; the beauties of vegetation must fade; the
mighty hills are to sink in the general wreck of nature;
but the virtues that exalt a nation are a garland which
the breath of eternity will not wither. Such is its just
estimation of the world. With what rapture, then, must
it turn to view the country where the grandest scenes
of man's virtue. But where on earth shall such a land
be sought? Surely not within the tropics. By some
strange fatality, this broad zone, emphatically the garden
of the earth, is trodden by slaves and barbarians.
Here, where the Deity is most visibly present by the
works of his bounty and power, man sins with the
highest hand. Here, where nature lifts her altars, the
everlasting hills, nighest heaven, his thoughts are most
grovelling. The stranger who would leave Jamaica
with most favorable impressions, must view it at a distance
as we did, or be spirited to its shores, and alight
on a pinnacle of its sequestered mountains, where, without
seeing a human being, he can view the island as it
came from the hand of its Maker.
But to return to our voyage. There is not on the
face of the globe a country, however beautiful in the
main, which has not its blemish. Thus, a few hours sailing
enabled us to discover a prominent one in Jamaica.
We reached a part of the coast where, it is said, rain
or dew is never known to fall. Never could imagination
picture a wilder scene of desolation. As if an
eternal sirocco breathed upon it, every germ of vegetation
was blasted. Withered shrubs were thinly scattered
over a vast chaos of rocks and barren mountains,
that on all sides presented frightful chasms, hollowed,
perhaps, by nature's omnipotent agent, the earthquake.
But the propitious breeze did not allow us long to
contemplate this region of horror. Again all was beautiful
and green. The ship glided on with increased
velocity as she approached the end of her journey; the
coast flew by like a dream, and the goal of our pilgrimage
rose upon the view. We passed the remains of
Port Royal. A ship of the line lay moored where once
stood the most populous part of the city. She is emphatically
men are subjected for their crimes to the direct and
dreadful wrath of the Almighty, then must the triple
overthrow of this ancient mart be regarded as instances
of such a visitation. Once it was burned to the ground;
once it was swept to destruction by a hurricane; and
again, as if her iniquities had risen to heaven and the
earth could sustain the burthen no longer, her foundations
were shaken under her, and she sunk forever.
We passed up the beautiful bay of Kingston, and on
the afternoon of the sixth of May we came to anchor
about half a mile from the shore. Numerous boats
were boarding us and departing on different errands.
An hundred ships were discharging or receiving their
cargoes, to the cheerful song of the sailors. The
passengers soon collected in a group on the quarterdeck
gazing on the thousand novelties that meet the
eye from the island, town, and bay. Mary was there, in
excellent spirits; every moment discovering and pointing
out, with the most animated gestures and exclamations,
some new object of admiration. At this moment a
barge from the castle shot across the bay, containing
an officer and a platoon of soldiers with orders for the
delivery of our prisoners into the hands of justice.
Accordingly, amidst a profound silence, they were
marched one by one from the hold, where they had been
immured for fifteen hours, and passed over the side of
the ship into the boat. There they were handcuffed
and bound. Two other barges were in attendance with
an equal number of men to act as guards.
The sight of these wretches painfully affected Miss
Douglas, and carried back her thoughts to the bloody
scene of the preceding night. She shuddered at the
recollection and murmured, `He that uttered that dreadful
cry is not here.'
Although she had spoken in a low voice her words
fell upon the ear of the last prisoner, who was just in the
act of leaving the ship. He was a youth of about two
and twenty, with a slender but very elegant figure. His
countenance might have been striking and expressive;
but it was now disfigured with a scar, and bore the
infallible marks of long and habitual indulgence in
intemperance. I said he heard the voice of Mary.
He stopped, and stood as if he was nailed to the deck.
He put his hand to his forehead like one bewildered, and
his eye wandered over the ship as if searching for the
sound he had heard, till at length it fell upon Mary, and
he stood gazing upon her with a countenance varying
strangely from the vacant stare of idiocy to an expression
of inexplicable meaning and even agony. She was
absorbed in her own reflections and heeded him not.
I made an exclamation of surprise, and directed her
attention to the miserable man who was so closely observing
her. She looked, her eye met the ghastly
stare of his, and if a bolt from heaven had struck her
she could not have fallen more quickly.
`William Ashton!' cried the wretched father, `are
you not yet satisfied? Will you take her life too?'
The miserable man rushed past his guards, threw
back the curls from her forehead, and, gasping for
breath like one in the agonies of strangulation, gazed
upon her. Then, springing to the vessel's side, before
any arm could interpose, he buried himself in the sea,
and never rose more.
It was many minutes before Miss Douglas showed
any signs of life. At last, after a strong convulsion,
she opened her eyes.
`Where is he?' said she, starting up in the birth.
She stared wildly around, and then, pointing with her
burst from her, and again she sunk down insensible.
The shock had been too much for reason, if not for
nature. For the remainder of that day and all the succeeding
night, we hung over her, uncertain whether
each fit might not be her last of mortal suffering. At
length she sunk into a deep sleep and reposed quietly.
She awoke perfectly calm. Looking her father
steadily in the face, `Where is he?' she repeated.
`My child! be calm,' said the old man.
`Am I not calm? Have I not suffered? and think
you I cannot suffer more? Let me know the worst.
Where is William Ashton?'
`In pity to your father, Miss Douglas,' said I, `endeavour
to compose yourself. You shall know all in
time.'
`I do know it,' said she, in a hollow voice; `I know
it; I see it; they are leading him to the scaffold, to a
death of shame.'
`For Heaven's sake, Mr Douglas,' said I, `let her
know the truth; it may save her senses.'
The old man assented. Taking her hand he related
in the gentlest manner the fate of her unworthy lover.
With wonderful composure she listened to the narration.
The fountain of her tears broke up, and she wept long
and freely. Then, closing her eyes, her lips were
seen to move as in prayer. I bowed my face upon her
hand and joined in her silent supplication, whatever it
might be.
Her tears and mental devotion relieved her. Again
she slept, and awoke in quiet spirits. It was evident
that the news of Ashton's suicide was to her far less
terrible than the idea of his suffering an ignominious
death as a malefactor. Perhaps also there was a relief
even in the thought that he was removed from a life
him dead, than as a pirate and a companion of thieves
and murderers. Perhaps she had long since torn him
from her heart, as she once told me. But could it be?
Would the sight of him then have affected her so
strongly?
Mary now signified to her father that she felt able to
travel. The hour had come when we were to separate.
And now came my trial. I wished to speak to her of
myself; but every principle of manhood repressed the
selfish thought in her present situation. She seemed to
comprehended my feelings, and, extending her hand to
me with a smile, said, `Farewell! Mr Brae; I have
crossed your path, like a dark vision, but oh! forget
me. Let it be as a dream since we first met.' She
hesitated a moment. `I may have caused you unhappiness.
Most gladly would I have avoided it, and gladly
would I remove it now were it possible. But look upon
my face, and be convinced, that were it even as you
wish, you would soon have to mourn again. May God
bless you!'
The boat that was to convey her to the shore was
ready. I watched it till it disappeared.
`Are you ready to land, Sir?'
Awaking as from a trance, I gave the speaker a bewildered
stare, and, for the first time during many days,
I recollected the objects of my voyage. With a feeling
of solitude, which even the thoughts of my home could
not subdue, I followed my baggage into the waiting
wherry, and in a few minutes placed my foot upon my
native land.
Twelve months after the events contained in the preceding
narrative had transpired, I stood again upon
American soil. Various had been my fortunes in the
interim, but they are of no consequence to the reader.
were nearly forgotten—its incidents, that were not associated
with that one individual, remembered but faintly.
I was sitting in my study, discussing a subtle point
in ethics, when some one knocked. A servant entered
and handed me the following note;—
`An old acquaintance requests the pleasure of Mr
Brae's company for a few minutes at the hotel.'
I rose instantly, adjusted my dress, and followed the
messenger.
Mr Douglas opened the door, and Mary, blooming
and beautiful beyond even my gayest dream, stood beside
him.
There was no romance in what followed to any but
the parties concerned, and it were needless to dwell
upon the story. In a single sentence, therefore, I will
say that Mr Douglas had travelled with his daughter
until her health was reestablished; that he was, at the
time of which I speak, on the way to his residence near
New York, and that the Mary Douglas of my dreams
is now the Mary Brae of my bosom.
| EXTRACTS FROM A SEA BOOK. The legendary | |