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NATALIE;

or,

A GEM AMONG THE SEA-WEEDS

By

FERNA VALE.

1859.

To thee, my darling Hattie, I dedicate the Sea-Flower
would that this casket contained for such as thou,
a purer gem.

PREFACE.

In writing the following pages the author has spent pleasant hours,
which perhaps might have been less profitably employed: if anything of
interest be found among them, it is well,--and, should any be led to
take up their Cross in meekness and humility, searching out the path
that leads the wanderer home, it is indeed well.

NATALIE.

CHAPTER I.

THE SEA-FLOWER.

  "What was it that I loved so well about my childhood's home?
   It was the wide and wave-lashed shore, the black rocks crowned with foam!
   It was the sea-gull's flapping wing, all trackless in its flight,
   Its screaming note, that welcomed on the fierce and stormy night!
   The wild heath had its flowers and moss, the forest had its trees,
   Which, bending to the evening wind, made music in the breeze;
   But earth,--ha! ha! I laugh e'en now,--earth had no charms for me,
   Nor scene half bright enough to win my young heart from the sea.
   No! 't was the ocean, vast and deep, the fathomless, the free,--
   The mighty rushing waters, that were ever dear to me!"

        ELIZA COOK.

  "But the goodly pearl which the merchant bought,
     And for which his all he gave,
   Was a purer pearl than will e'er be brought
     From under the FOAMING wave."

        H. F. GOULD.

"Massa Grobener! Massa Grobener! Please, sar, look here! De good Lord
hab left his mitest ob angels here on de beach; and please, sar, step
low or de wee bit will take to its wings and fly away. De good Lord be
praised! but old Bingo hab found many a bright sea-weed in his day, but
dis am de sweetest sea-flower ob de whole."

And as he spoke, the little one stretched out its tiny arms toward the
poor old black man and gave a faint moan. Captain Grosvenor, who had now
come up with the negro, was no less surprised than had been old Vingo,
at discovering, among the fresh, bright sea-weed, an infant some eight
months old. The babe was carefully lashed into a large wooden trough or
bowl, and a canvas firmly stretched over the top, permitting only the
head and arms to remain exposed, and judging from the dripping condition
of the worthy little sea-craft, it could not have been many moments
since it had come to anchor on the smooth, hard beach; probably the now
receding waves had borne the precious burden to this most welcome
harbor--"whereby hangs a tale."

"De good Lord be praised, massa! but dis am de most curous ob all
sea-ve'cles that eber trabers de great waters! I sure it must be a
speint from de great scripture ark massa read about in de good book; or
may be it am one ob those old-time chariots, fiery chariots, we sings
about; only it so moist around here, it put de fire all out and leabe de
chariot. Or I tink it may be one ob dose machines Bingo used to see in
old slabe-massa's church, hung up ober de minister's head, to make de
good psalms or de prayers go de right way, and I don't remember which;
old Bingo always retained a bery bad memory, eber since before he was a
child; but I tink dey used to call it a sound board, though it was full
ob cracks."

Ah! poor fellow, had you seen that heart-rending look of despair,
mingled with sweet resignation, upon the face of that mother! had you
seen the glistening tear in the eye of that noble father, as, but a few
hours before, they consigned their idolized child to the mercies of the
deep; had you heard that prayer to God, if it might be his will, to
spare their darling from an ocean-grave, your great heart would have
been, if possible, kindled to a greater love for that helpless
little one!

Captain Grosvenor, after having carefully taken the child from the
grotesque looking craft, which had proved so trustworthy a sailor, and
wiped the drops of spray from its little face, wrapped it in a large
bandana, and gave it to the faithful Vingo, while he took his glass and
scanned the distant horizon; for well did he know, though even at
noon-day, that one more unfortunate bark had gone down near that dread
"Nantucket shoal," upon which so many noble hearts have found a watery
grave. "I see nothing," said the Captain, "nothing, not even a passing
sail; which is quite uncommon at this season, when so many vessels are
constantly passing and repassing our island; not even the light-boat do
I see, which is probably owing to a fog coming in from the sea, as yet
imperceptible to us here. Poor fellows! I fear they have gone down
without a soul to help them! It seems hard when there are so many stout
hearts and ready arms here, willing to risk their lives in the attempt
to save. Those shoals, Vingo, are the only unkind thing there is about
our cherished island; but the will of God be done. Truly his ways are
unsearchable."

"Den you tinks, massa, dis little sea-flower was left here trough
mistake, by de Lord?"

"It most assuredly was left here by the Lord, Vingo, but not by
mistake. The fact is, my boy, there has been a wreck off to the east
south-east of the island; probably some vessel has mistaken her
bearings, or, being unacquainted with the coast, has run on to the
shoals and gone to pieces; and this infant was made fast to the first
floatable object that could be found, and with a mother's dying prayer
for a rudder, and the hand of Him who guides us all at the helm, she has
come to us here; and with eyes of heaven's own blue, she silently asks
for that protection which shall not be withheld from her so long as it
shall be within my power to give. And now, Vingo, boy, you may turn the
horse's head for the town."

"Yes, massa."

And though some fifty years had passed over the old negro's head, he
sprang with the agility of boyhood's days; although, as the poor fellow
often remarked, "he had a wonderful constitution for enduring rest," the
thought of his good missus's surprise, when she should learn of their
morning's adventure, gave him new life, and he fairly danced about the
beach for joy. Seated in the spring-cart, Captain Grosvenor took the
babe in his arms, that had now fallen into a quiet sleep, while Vingo,
perching himself first on one foot and then the other, to keep his
balance, gathered up the reins, and all started for home.

"I am tinking, massa, dat my missus be quite ober-much-come at de sight
of dis little sea-flower."

"Yes, boy; yes, sea-flower indeed. I have travelled the wide world from
stem to stern, but never have I met with such an emblem of innocence
before." And though the hardy sea-captain had spent the greater part of
his life among the whales, he stooped down and pressed his lips to the
brow of the unconscious sleeper.

"Luff off there a little, Vingo; keep to the right; these bare commons
are not the easiest grounds to ride over, though with a light
spring-cart like this one can navigate with some degree of comfort. The
broad ocean is the place, after all. Give me the old ship Tantalizer,
and I am at home. Take the glass, Vingo, and see if you can make out
whether the steamboat is in sight or not."

"Cannot eben make de staff, massa. Ah! now I sees him; de flag is up,
old Massachusetts am in sight."

"She will be in early to-day. Travels decently fast, considering she is
all out of joint. I hope we shall get a new steamer some day; then we
may keep posted with what is going on in the outer world."

"Yes, massa, people tink we a piece ob de continent den."

An hour's ride brought our worthy captain to his own door, where stood
Mrs. Grosvenor, with her son Harry, their only child, of seven years,
awaiting him.

"You have made a long stay at the shore this morning, my husband; but if
these little excursions will deter you from making a longer voyage, I
will not complain."

"Yes, wife, yes; but for a peace offering I have brought to you a gem
from among the sea-weeds."

"My dear husband, where can you have found this child?" and tears were
in the eyes of the lady as she received the little unknown from
his arms.

"Is it for you? to be yours, mother? Mother, may it stay with us here?"
asked Harry; and in his delight he stumbled over old Neptune, who was
stretched at full length upon the floor, and the two went rolling over
and over, first one up and then the other, till finally the boy came off
victorious, seated astride the animal's back, who marched up to Mrs.
Grosvenor's side, where they both remained, eyeing the little stranger
in silence.

"The child's dress denotes no common birth," remarked the Captain, as
his lady disrobed it of its rich lace dress, saturated with the salt
seawater. "And the gold bands; are there no marks?--nothing, by which we
may gain the least clue of its history?"

"I see nothing; and it is well; for my heart already yearns towards the
little creature, and in my selfish human nature, I can't but hope that
we may be able to keep her for our own." And as she spoke she pressed
the clasp of the band, and, behold! the miniature likeness of a lady was
brought to view. The foster mother gazed upon those features, as if it
were the face of an angel.

"I cannot have the heart to wish to retain _her_ child! To deprive that
mother of anything that can give her pain to lose. Would I could ask her
to forgive my cruel thoughts; forgive the desire to retain this her gem.
But I know she has gone to her home in the skies; she was too pure for
earth. Yes, this must be the mother, the child is so like her."

"The same features, the same expression; and," said the Captain, "I will
use every means of finding out if there is one left of that ill-fated
crew to tell the tale. It will probably be reported in a few days, if
there are any missing vessels, either from our coasts or foreign ports.
In the meantime I will take care to have this discovery registered at
head-quarters, and then if we can discover no trace of her parentage we
may have her for our own."

"Have her for our own! Nep, do you hear that? We are to have a new
sister!" shouted the boy; and Nep, as if comprehending his young
master's words, laid his great honest face on the feet of the child, and
caressed her.

"Please, missus, don't make little Sea-flower too fresh; she be pining
for de sea;" remarked Vingo, as Mrs. Grosvenor proceeded to bathe the
child in cool fresh water; and having brought out the baby-clothes worn
by Harry, she was soon, by the aid of a little new milk, made
comfortable, and, creeping down after old Nep, sat with her hands
buried in his shaggy coat, crowing with delight. The lights at Captain
Grosvenor's burned long into the night of that eventful day, of the
discovery of the Sea-flower, while he related to his wife how they had
found the little one among the sea-weeds, and in forming plans for her
future adoption, should nothing be learned of her parentage, and no
friends come to claim the child.

Soon after the commencement of our story, a fearful storm swept the New
England coast. 'Twould seem as if the rage of the storm-king knew no
bounds; and many hearts there were made desolate in that
long-to-be-remembered September gale. Fragments of wrecks came ashore on
different parts of the island, together with casks, chests, rigging,
stoven boats, etc., which were picked up in various places, and by
various characters. Some would watch eagerly for these trophies of
destruction, and with grasping hand seize upon them, viewing the storm
as sent for their own particular benefit; increasing their worldly
goods, regardless of others' woes. While some there were, who turned
away with a heart sick at the scene of devastation, yet submissively
bowing to His will, "who holds the waters in his hand." Wreck upon wreck
was reported. The total loss of vessels from all parts of the world was
very great, which only served to increase the mystery in regard to the
unknown, which went down 'neath a calm noon-day sky. Days and months
passed on, and still no tidings; till finally they came to look upon the
loved one as their own.

The child grew in strength and beauty, and was a source of great
amusement to them all. Old Vingo would delight to make one of his
"squantums," as he called it, to the shore; and with master Harry, who
was now taking his first lessons in driving, (a point once attained,
boyhood thinks to gain no higher) and Sea-flower in his arms; with Nep,
who is determined to be "head horse," bounding off in the distance, is
happiness enough for the negro, and his white teeth glisten in the
bright sunshine like so many African pearls, as he jabbers away to
Sea-flower, as if she were comprehending the whole. But 'twas enough for
Vingo, that she in reply to his half hour's remarks, would put out her
hand toward the blue waters, and with eyes dilated with wonderment,
would say, "Tee! Indo, Tee!"

There on the beach they would have a fine race with the surf, Vingo
following with the child the receding wave, and then, as it came in with
a roar from the sea, he would run as if pursued by a foe, sometimes the
spray dashing up all around them, much to the joy of the Sea-flower, her
merry laugh according strangely with the music of the waters. Harry
amused himself for a while, throwing the bits of drift-wood into the
water, that he might see old Newfoundland dash in and combat with the
waves, to secure the prize, which he never failed to do; but wearying of
this, he came and took his seat by the side of his sister, and commenced
whittling diligently on an old piece of plank.

"Vingo, do you think my father will ever go to sea again?"

"I don't know, young massa; but why you tink ob dat?"

"O, I have often thought I would like to go with my father away over the
great ocean. I long to see more of the world; and I often think of the
time when I shall be a man, and have a ship of my own. I never hear of
a ship arrived at the bar, but it sends a thrill of delight over me, and
I watch the sailors as they come on shore after a three years' voyage,
and think how happy they must be, though they look as if they had met
with the rubbers. O, I know I shall be a sailor boy! there is something
noble about the very name."

"Missus be berry sorry to hear you talk so," said Vingo.

"I know my mother would be very sorry to have me go to sea, for I
remember how sad she looked for many days after father went away, though
I was but a little boy. And I remember my father took me in his arms,
and told me I must be a good boy, and take care of mother until he came
back. But now you would be here, Vingo, to see that my mother knew
no want."

"Yes, de good Lord be praised for sending good massa Grobener to take me
away from old slabe massa. I gets so filled wid liberty sometimes, dat I
mistakes myself for white man."

"Well, you are as good as a white man, any day; but tell me, Vingo, if
you have ever been much on the water?"

"Not a great deal; I used to take old massa wid his children out for a
sail sometimes, and den I hab a slight recollection ob being brought
from a great way off; but dat must hab been before I come to be berry
great. De pleasantest sail I eber take was when I leabe old Berginny in
de good Tantalizer; and I swings my hat at old slabe massa on de bank,
and asks him if he don't wish he as free as dis individual. Dat was but
a few years ago; den you wear little dress like Sea-flower, and now you
talk 'bout going to sea! Well, dat am de way wid you sea-fish here."

As the three sat on the beach, enjoying the morning breeze, Harry
observed a gentleman not far off, who appeared to be taking sketches of
the scenery around, and occasionally would give a glance towards where
our little party were sitting, somewhat to the disquietude of Nep, who
came and stood sentinel, as much as to say, "I will protect you;" but
finding the stranger disposed to do them no harm, he composed himself
for a nap. The whittling process being now finished, Harry produced what
he termed a "two-master," the which, Vingo declared it would be no sin
to worship, as it was not in the likeness of anything.

"She is not a very polished looking craft, to be sure, but I know she
is a sailer, for all that. At any rate, she shall be of some service;"
and he seized old Nep by the ear, and making fast his dogship to the
little ark, he carefully seated the Sea-flower at the helm, and with
Vingo's rainbow bandana flying from the mast-head, they were soon under
full headway. Either Nep being proud of his charge, or the little one
mistaking the thoughtful face, lit up with the glow of enthusiasm, of
the stranger, for a beacon light; they came up with him, who called to
Harry to join them.

"What is your name, my son?"

"Harry Grosvenor, sir," answered the boy, drawing himself up to his full
height.

"And what have you here?" added he. "I suppose you came along as
supercargo; pray tell me with what are you freighted?"

"The Sea-flower is my only freight, sir."

"And God grant that you may always find as valuable! but tell me, is
this angelic child your sister?"

"Yes, sir, my sister, and we all love her very much; we could not be
without her, for we might forget to thank our Father for his kindness
to us, if we had no Sea-flower to remind us of Heaven."

"So young, and can appreciate so rare a gift," mused the gentleman;
"childhood, indeed, is the first to discover purity;" and the eye of the
stranger grew moist, and the melancholy smile which sat upon his
countenance gave place to the shadows of grief. "What is the child's
name?" asked he.

"We call her Sea-flower, sir."

"'Tis a peculiar, sweet name; but has she no other?"

"We have always called her by that name. Mother says she came to us from
God, and he loves the little flowers; he smiles upon each one, as it
holds up its little head, all shining with pearly tears wept by the
stars. But do you not love my sister? I did not think she could make
you sad."

"Yes, yes, my son; take good care of her, be a true brother to her,
ever. Many long years have passed since my own little Natalie played in
my arms, but they are gone;" and the kind gentleman gathered his
sketching instruments to depart.

That night, as Mrs. Grosvenor talked with her children, as was her wont,
of the good Father who loves us all, Harry related the interview with
the stranger gentleman; and in the prayer which followed he was not
forgotten. The Sea-flower folded her tiny hands meekly, while from the
windows of her soul went up the love she could not speak. As that
faithful mother sat meditating upon the story of Harry in regard to the
stranger, which she had related to her husband, Captain Grosvenor
remarked,--"It is just one year to-day when our dear child came to us,
being also my birthday; but instead of adding a year to my life, it
seems to me old Father time has made a mistake, and made a deduction of
a year. Just one year to-day, and she is the Sea-flower still. Yes, she
will ever be the Sea-flower to us; yet I suppose she must have a name
more in keeping with the ideas of the world. What was the name of the
lost one the sad gentleman mused of?"

"He spoke of the long time ago, before his own Natalie had gone."

"Poor man! Each life must have its portion of bitterness. Natalie,--I
like the sound; it reminds me of my home on the waters. With your
consent, my wife, the Christian name of the child shall be Natalie, for
she came to us from the sea."

CHAPTER II.

THE ISLAND HOME.

  "Long may this ocean-gem be bright,
     And long may it be fair,
   In Freedom's pure and blessed light,
     And Virtue's hallowed air!
   While still across its ocean bound,
   Shall e'er be borne the truthful sound,
   Our island home! our island home!
     We love our island home!"

        MRS. J. H. HANAFORD.

  "And yet that isle remaineth,
     A refuge for the free,
   As when true-hearted Macy
     Beheld it from the sea.
   God bless the sea-beat island!
     And grant for evermore,
   That Charity and Freedom dwell,
     As now, upon the shore!"

        J. G. WHITTIER.

Gentle reader, pause a little, and let us for a few moments turn our
thoughts toward that Island of the sea, upon which it was the fate of
our heroine, through the guidance of a divine providence, to find a home
in the bosoms of those whose hearts' beatings were of love for our
unknown. Yea, love ever encircleth purity.

Properly, this chapter, descriptive of the Island of Nantucket, should
have been our first; but had that been the case, alas, for the simple
tale of Natalie! How many would have passed it by with but one thought,
and that thought invariably,--Nantucket! pooh! a fish story, strikingly
embellished with ignorance. And you may indeed discover in the
feebleness of my unpretending pen, much that is food for critics; yet
give not a thought of ridicule to Nantucket's favored ones, for it is
not for me to enlist under her banner of superiority of intellect. To
the many questions which I know you have it in your heart to ask, as
touching the civilization, etc., of these islanders, I do not reply, as
I might be tempted under other circumstances to do, that it would be
advisable to procure a passport before landing on those shores, lest one
might stand in danger of being harpooned by the natives; but rather let
me, in as correct a light as I may, set forth to those who have
heretofore known but little of those who inhabit that triangular bit of
land in the wide ocean, which, when we were six year olds, we passed
over on our maps with the thought, I wonder if they have Sundays there.

Situated nearly one hundred miles, in a south-easterly course from the
city of Boston, and about thirty miles from the nearest point of main
land, Nantucket lifts her proud head from out the broad Atlantic, whose
waters, even when lashed to madness, have been kind to her. And now, on
this oppressive July morning, let us throw aside our cares, and come out
from our daily round of duties, where we have been scaling with our eyes
the tall brick barriers which shut out God's beautiful blue sky and
sunshine. Yes, let us off, anywhere, to get one glimpse of Nature. On
board the good steamer "Island Home," a two hours' sail carries us over
that distance which separates Cape Cod from Nantucket. If you have not
passed most of your days among the Connecticut hills, you pay little
attention to that "green-eyed monster," who considers it a part of his
duty to prepare the uninitiated for the good time coming. Arrived at the
bar, which stretches itself across the entrance to the harbor, our
first impressions take to themselves the forms of sundry venerable
windmills, church spires and towers, representing various orders of
architecture; but that which strikes us most is the scarcity of
shipping, not more than a dozen vessels lying at the wharves. In former
times Nantucket numbered as many whaleships belonging to her port, as
did any town on our seaboard. Indeed, she was built up from the produce
of the ocean, and carried the palm for years as being first among the
American whale fisheries; but her number has dwindled away, till not
one-fourth of those homeward-bound ships are destined for the port of
Nantucket.

The town, we find, is situated on the northern shore of the island, at
the harbor's head. The houses are compact, and most of them built of
wood, with little regard to beauty; though some few residences there
are, of modern style, which do credit to their designers; but the
greater number speak only of antiquity, with their shingled sides; and
you will rarely see a house that has not a "walk" upon its roof, with
which they could by no means dispense, as in case of ship-wreck near
the island, the roofs of the whole town will be alive with men, women,
and children, spyglass in hand. Besides the town there are but one or
two small villages, "Polpis," and the far-famed "Siaconset," or
"Sconset," as it is usually termed,--numbering some four dozen houses.
This village is seven and one-half miles from the town, affording a
delightful place of recreation for families from town, who, as the
summer holidays come round, harness up old Dobbin, and prepare for a six
weeks' "siesta." If, by reason of the great financial pressure, you find
you have not sufficient pocket-money to take you for a short tour to
Europe, come to "Sconset;" it is a glorious place! take a stroll along
that grand old beach, and watch the moon rise from out the ocean; then
go to your comfortable seven-by-nine lodgings, which seems like a
palace, draw the comfortable rug about you, and fall asleep, with old
Ocean for a lullaby, to dream (if your waking hours are fortunately of
that bent) of some old deserted castle, "Salem witchcraft," or a lone
"Grace Pool," attendant within the attic's most remote recesses.

The face of the island is level, so much so that the flat, bare commons
resemble somewhat our western prairies; and with the exception of the
cliffs at the north, and Sancoty Head, there are but few slight
elevations. Owing to the peculiar shape of the island, its two arms
stretching far out on either side, it does not appear to be as large as
it really is,--being about sixteen miles long, and four wide, affording
sufficient elbow room, however, for its eight thousand inhabitants. The
soil is sandy, but is cultivated to some extent; and though they can
boast of no extensive forests, yet you may occasionally meet with an old
friend in the way of a noble elm, or the pensive weeping willow. The
culture of fruit trees, also, is receiving much attention of later
years, and as widely as refinement must be separated from the islanders,
to be in keeping with your views, their love for the sweet spring
flowers knows no bounds.

In your walks of curiosity about town, you meet with a great many of the
denomination termed Friends, or Quakers, and as you pass them you cannot
refrain from giving them the inside walk, for their very garb is of
humility; and as you look into the placid face of some matron, you feel
like uncovering yourself, for you can see the innocence looking out of
her eyes. You are curious to know whither so many are wending their way,
and meeting a sailor-boy, he tells you it is "fifth day," and if you
follow in the wake of the "slick bonnets," they will pilot you to their
nearest light-house; but precious little light you will get unless the
spirit move some of them to pick up the wick. You move on with the rest
till you come to their house of worship, which appears as humble as
those who enter its doors. As you contrast the plainness on all sides
with the richly decorated edifice in which you have been accustomed to
worship, you try to smile a smile of contempt at the scene, but cannot,
for you feel that the spirit of Christ is in their midst; and though not
a word is spoken during the hour and a half, yet you feel that the
silent worship which went up to Heaven, was heard by Him who answers
prayer. As a signal for dispersing, the elders who occupy the "rising
seats," arise and shake hands, and you go your way with those silent
ones, feeling that their worship was acceptable to God. The Quakers of
Nantucket are rapidly diminishing in number. Formerly two-thirds,
perhaps, of the population, were of the Society of Friends, but now not
one-third are of that denomination. As their children come up, they are
not true to the faith, as were their fathers, and they put off the plain
garb for the fashions of the day. A Quaker in Nantucket will in time
come to be a great curiosity. Their places will, we fear, be filled by
none more upright. Heaven bless them!

Nantucket of the present is not Nantucket of the past. Her quaint,
old-timeness has given place to customs and manners more in accordance
with things common-place. Yet her originality has not entirely forsaken
her; she has a character even now, peculiar to herself. The wild waves
come tumbling in, their glad shouts ringing through the midnight
stillness with the same zest as of yore; and the same starry skies,
which looked down on the fair maiden of a century ago, still bend over
her children's children, as they tread along life's rugged way.
Occasionally you may meet with one who has long since passed the
meridian of life, one, perhaps, who has never been off of the island of
his birth; and he will tell you of the Nantucket of the past, before her
peaceful shores had been invaded by the stranger; when they might lay
them down to sleep, without thought of bolt or bar, save old ocean's
faithful bands. You will learn of Nantucket from the beginning down to
the present time. Then the island was big with prosperity. Her sons were
not obliged to leave their homes for a five years' voyage, in search of
the monster from which they gained their chief maintenance, for there
were then good fishing grounds near the shore, and often the whale might
be seen from their little island, spouting off in the distance; and
their ships came proudly bearing down to the bar, laden heavily with the
good sperm oil, and all hearts were made lighter and each purse heavier,
with every new arrival of good fortune; as if they had been one great
family, each one smiling on another's prosperity. "But now,"--and the
face of the narrator is less joyous as he turns from _then_ to
_now_,--"things are not what they were. Our island is becoming like what
they tell me the world at large is." And the old man will re-light his
pipe, and with a sad smile he will give you the names of his ancestors,
from his great "Grand-'ther" down to more modern times, when his fifth
cousin Obed was a large ship-owner. Ah! treat such of other days with
kindness, for the style of that day will never come again; their great
hearts of brotherly love are not of this generation, yet they have left
an impress upon those well-loved shores that can never be entirely
erased. Those foot-prints of long ago, combined with the peculiarities
which will ever dwell with these children of the sea, are attractions
which insure to the stranger on his first visit, visions of many a happy
hour in the future; and he will long for the season to return which
shall liberate so many of the city doomed artificials to a few weeks'
intercourse with nature.

Awakened at early dawn by the sailor's merry "yo, ho," coming up from
the waters with the sun, you turn your eyes seaward, and what a glorious
sight is before you! As far as the eye can reach, water, blue, rolling
water, tinged with rising sunlight in its morning purity; the night-bird
folds her wings, which she has laved in the white sea-foam, softening
the sigh of the breakers to the ear of those who slumbered; the white
sails bow their heads, while the old tars wonder what makes them so
happy. With these pleasant sunrise impressions you go forth into the day
with more lenient views towards the "land of whales," sniffing the salt
air with a real gusto.

Glancing up the street, you descry an object in the distance which much
resembles a travelling dry-goods merchant, with the many fancy streamers
flying in the breeze; but as it draws nearer, you look around in
astonishment for "Barnum," fully persuaded if that worthy is not on the
ground, he has mistaken his calling for once. The object in question is
no less than a common two-wheeled horse-cart, such as are used to do our
heavy carting, except this is on springs, and of a lighter build; in the
vehicle are some half dozen ladies, standing, their only support being
short ropes attached to the sides, which, however, are seldom used,
except by those unaccustomed to this kind of exercise, and in this
position they ride with the greatest ease, seldom losing their balance,
even when going at full speed.

Thoroughly initiated, and having seen most of the lions of the place,
you find yourself becoming more and more attached, forget that you have
ever thought of the island as anything but attractive. Your one week has
become the length of four, and the letters to anxious friends at home
have been characteristic of briefness, unwilling to steal a moment's
time from the enjoyment which will furnish a topic for the unemployed
hours of longer days to come. Of the many excursions which have made
short the hours of your sojourn here, I will not enter into detail;
suffice it to say, you have been disappointed in Nantucket and its
inhabitants. You have made many firm friends, the memory of whom will
stir the tear of unselfish love, as you number them over, one by one, in
the future. They will never be forgotten. You have found Nantucket is
not merely an isolated place, where oil is manufactured; where the
people only work to eat, and eat to work. [Though as some have
suggested, a carriage drive connecting Nantucket with the Continent
would be a great modern improvement]. As one has quaintly expressed, in
a little poem entitled "An Old Story:"

 "Before Columbus ever thought
  Of Western World, with glory fraught;
  Before the Northmen had been known
  To wander from their native zone;
  Before war raised a single mound,
  The antiquarians to confound;
  Indeed, so very long ago,
  The time one can't exactly know,--
  A giant Sachem, good as great,
  Reigned in and over our Bay State.
  So huge was he, his realm so small,
  He could not exercise at all,
  Except by taking to the sea.
  [For which he had a ticket free,
  Granted by Neptune, with the seal,
  A salient clam, and couchant eel].
  His pipe was many a mile in length,
  His lungs proportionable in strength;
  And his rich moccasins,--with the pair,
  The seven-league boots would not compare.
  Whene'er siestas he would take,
  Cape Cod must help his couch to make;
  And, being lowly, it was meet
  He should prefer it for his feet.
  Well, one day, after quite a doze,
  A month or two in length, suppose,
  He waked, and, as he'd often done,
  Strolled forth to see the mid-day sun;
  But while unconsciously he slept,
  The sand within his moccasins crept;
  At every step some pain he'd feel,
  'Twas now the toe, now near the heel;
  At length his Sachemship grew cross,
  The pebbles to the sea he'd toss,
  And with a moccasin in each hand,
  He threw on either side the sand;
  Then in an instant there appear
  Two little isles, the Sachem near!
  One as the Vineyard now is known,
  The other we may call our own.
  At ease, he freely breathed awhile,
  Which sent the fogs to bless our isle;
  And turning East, with quickened motion,
  The chill, bleak winds came o'er the ocean.

  Ill-judging Sachem! would that you
  Had never shaken _here_ that shoe.
  Or, having done so, would again,
  And join Nantucket to the main!"

Having had a peep within the nest, you sigh for the return of the bird,
and we will on.

CHAPTER III.

THE VOICE OF CHILDHOOD.

  "Ah! Well may sages bow to thee,
   Dear, loving, guileless Infancy!
     And sigh beside their lofty lore
   For one untaught delight of thine;
     And feel they'd give their learning's store,
   To know again thy truth divine."

        MRS. OSGOOD.

  "And now behold him kneeling there,
   By the child's side, in humble prayer;
   While the same sun-beam shines upon
   The guilty and the guiltless one;
   And hymns of joy proclaim through heaven,
   The triumph of a soul forgiven."

        MOORE'S "LALLA ROOKH."

"Mother, why does every one pass poor old Quady by without giving him
even a smile? Is not that the reason why he looks so sorrowful? He
looked so sad when I met him this afternoon, that I could not help
holding out the daisies which I had gathered for you, towards him; and
when he did not take them, but stood looking at me without speaking a
word, I asked him if he did not want the flowers to carry to his home,
and put them into his hand; and when I had come up with the
school-girls, who had run away when they saw him coming, I looked after
him, and he was still standing by the road-side, with the flowers in his
hand, watching us as we went up the street. Perhaps he was resting a
little, for it is a long way to the low home over the commons."

"Quady, my dear, no doubt feels that he is alone in the world, for he is
the only one that is left of a large tribe of Indians; all of his kind
are gone, and are buried, no one but himself knows where. He does not
look upon the pale faces as brothers, though they treat him kindly. He
feels that wrong has been shown his ancestors at their hands. I am glad,
my child, that you were kind to the Indian."

"Yes, mother, I love everybody; but I think I love those best who look
as if no one cared for them. I suppose everybody loves poor Quady, only
they forget to let him know it."

"You like dat old Ingin, Sea-flower? why, he almost as black as Bingo
hesef."

"Do you think I do not love you, Vingo, because you are black? You are
always good to me, and what would I do without you to take me to the
shore, whenever I like to go?"

"O, little missy, I tink you can sympetize wid old black Bingo; but den,
ebry body not like you; you's one ob de Lord's chilen hesef."

"We are all the Lord's children, Vingo," said Mrs. Grosvenor; "and we
should walk in the paths of righteousness, that we may be worthy of his
name. You may go, now."

"What does Vingo mean, mother? he talks so strangely sometimes about my
being left here by the Lord, and goes on muttering something to himself,
which I cannot understand, and laughs as if he was very happy."

"It is his way of expressing himself, my dear; the negroes are a
peculiar race."

"Yes, I think they are; I like their ways, they are always so kind. Are
not their dispositions better than those of some white people? I never
heard of a black man being cruel to any one, but I have seen the prints
of a whip-lash on Vingo's neck, where he said his old massa used to
whip him; and I asked him many times over, if he was sure it was a white
man who whipped him, and he said yes, he was sure, for he remembers he
used to wish white folks were black, so they could not tell which were
the negroes."

"There are some very hard-hearted people in the world. Vingo was brought
up in slavery; when you are a little older you will understand
it better."

"Dear mother, you know what is best for me; but often, when I am
interested in what is said, and ask questions, people tell me I will
understand it when I am a little older; and when I sit down by myself,
and they think I have forgotten all about it, I find myself wishing I
was "a little older," for it disappoints me so much to leave a story not
finished."

Mrs. Grosvenor looked at the child in silence.

"I have not displeased you, dear mother, have I? I did not feel that I was
saying anything wrong."

"No, darling; I did not think you would understand me, that was the
reason why I did not explain to you. I am always ready to talk with you,
if you can comprehend what I am saying."

"Never mind, mother, I am six years old; it won't be a great while
before I shall be 'a little older,' and then I can realize how very good
you are to me, my dear mother, and how patient you are."

Mrs. Grosvenor clasped the child in her arms. "What makes little pet
look so sober to-night?" asked Captain Grosvenor, as taking her on his
knee, he pushed the dark brown curls from off her forehead, and looked
into her mild, blue eyes. "What makes Sea-flower so quiet? Has anything
happened to either of your seven kittens? or has some flower which has
lived already a week longer than nature designed, at last withered, and
gone the way of all frailties?"

"O, father, I should be very wicked if I were not happy, when I have so
much to make me so; but sometimes, when I hear the shore roaring so loud
as it does this evening, and look up at the stars, as they twinkle in
their homes far away in the sky, there is something which comes over me
of sadness, making me a great deal happier; and there is one particular
star which I always notice, for it seems as if it was looking down at me
so gently, that I forget myself, and put out my hand to touch it, as if
it was not so far away; and I fancy sometimes that the star can read my
thoughts, for it seems to smile when I am happiest."

"You are a little fanciful creature; you must learn to leave off
dreaming when you are awake."

"What shall you dream about when father goes away to sea again?" asked
Harry.

"I think mother will not let him go; we cannot spare him; but if you
should go, father, I shall love to dream of you very often; I will think
of you every day, sailing on the water with a heart so light. O, it must
be so pleasant to live, to sleep on the water! And you will want to see
dear mother and Harry, when you are so far away; you will not forget
us;" and she hid her cheek in the hardy captain's bosom.

"No, no, darling, I shan't forget you; but we wont talk any more about
it now; I have not gone yet."

What was it made that stout man's voice tremulous, as he called for his
evening paper? Many a time had that stern voice been heard above the
hurricane's roar, giving the word of command,--why did it tremble now?
Was it that voice of childhood which sank into his heart?

"Missus, de sun hab done gone, now, de chllens hab all gone from school
long ago, and Bingo's two eyes hab clean gone stretched, looking up de
road for de Sea-flower," remarked that worthy, putting his ebony head in
at the drawing-room door, where sat Mrs. Grosvenor, so busily engaged
making those garments for her husband, which she feared would be needed,
alas! so soon that she had not perceived the hours were gliding on
apace, and that it was long past the time when Sea-flower usually came
tripping in from school to receive her evening kiss, and to tell over
the events of the day.

"Has Harry come home yet? she may have gone up to the High School to
meet him."

"Yes, missus, massa Harry here a long time."

"Then you had better go and see what keeps her; you will probably meet
her on the way, and if it is not too late you may take the horse and
give her a ride."

"Yes, missus;" and the jet pony, so many shades lighter than his driver,
was soon lost in the distance.

The last faint shadows of the sun had died away, the moon had risen in
all her queenly beauty, and Vingo had not returned; neither had anything
been seen of the Sea-flower since she had left home early in the
afternoon; and now Mrs. Grosvenor really began to feel anxious, as she
stood looking out into the night; for, although the child was accustomed
to stroll about the fields in search of wild flowers, whenever she
liked, she had never before stayed away so long.

"Husband, had you not better go and see what has become of her? I cannot
think what keeps them."

"It is a mystery; but give yourself no uneasiness; I'll be bound the
child has made a safe harbor somewhere. She usually has a
look-out aloft."

"Ah! there they come, under a full press of sail!" cried Harry, who
loved well to imitate the nautical phrases of his father. "Does she not
make a grand figure-head!"

"Figure-head!" exclaimed Vingo; "I am tinking, young massa, if dis 'ere
head ob mine had not been made so solid like, 'spressly for figuring,
dat it been a powerful time afore you cotch sight ob dis bit ob
fly-away again. De good Lord be praised! but if I don't tink little
missy so filled wid what de angels libs on dat she make use ob de shadow
ob dar wings to take herself away ober dose yar commons! It make me
smile to tink how dat old Ingin look at Sea-flower, as if de sun was
puttin' out his eyes."

"Why, my child, you surely have not been out to Quady's hut! it is a
long way."

"Ha! a fast sailor, always has a fair breeze; dropped anchor in the best
harbor in these parts! But what's this? colors half-mast?" exclaimed the
captain, as he caught sight of a little pouch, woven together of bright
colored basket stuff, slung over her shoulder; a little drab paw,
darting from out its deepest recesses in pursuit of a tantalizing curl,
soon explains how matters stand, and a voice of the greatest feline
sweetness is heard in reply to divers catlike salutations, proceeding
from the adjoining apartment.

"This is my wallet, which Quady has made for me to carry my kittens in;
and pussy has enjoyed it so much! 'Tis the way Quady's people used to
carry their babies through these very streets, only there were prettier
walks here then. O, he has told me so many pretty stories!"

"How came you to have your kitten with you? and why did you go away so
far, and stay so late, my dear? I have been looking for you a
long time."

"O, mother, I will tell you all about it. As I was bidding my kittens
good-bye, after having a little talk with them, as I usually do before
going to school, I missed one of the smallest, which I call Charity,
because she always looks up at the larger ones, when they play with her
too roughly, in such a forgiving way. I looked all around, and not
finding her, thought she must have strayed away by herself, and I ran
off to school. Our lesson for to-day was Faith, Hope, and Charity; as I
read the last word I looked down, and there was my own Charity peeping
at me from out my pocket. I explained to my teacher how it happened, for
I thought she would be displeased; but having an errand into the next
room just then, she did not think of kitten, who lay quietly sleeping
again; and when I had said all my lessons, my teacher excused me, saying
it was because I had been a good girl. And so we strolled over the
commons together, Charity and I, and I dressed her in wild flowers, and
she did look so innocent! On we went, I running after kitten, and then
kitten after me, when, before I thought how far we had come, I espied
Quady's low home a little way off, and he was sitting at the door. He
did not see me until I stood before him, and then he went into his house
and brought out a large pipe and gave to me; I thought it so strange
that poor Quady should think a little girl could smoke a pipe, but I
took it to please him, and then he showed me so many curious things;
there was a large bow, and arrows with sharp bits of iron in their
heads, and he was going to shoot a little sparrow which sat upon the
fence, but I caught his arm, and begged him not to kill the poor thing.
I told him God made the sparrow to be happy, and he asked me if I meant
the Great Spirit, if my God was his God? When I told him it was, he put
up his bow and came and sat down by me, and taking a little paper from
his bosom, unrolled it, and there were the daisies which I had given him
so long ago! He asked if the Great Spirit made them, too, and if he had
sent me to give them to him; and when I told him the great Spirit made
all the flowers, made everything, and loved everybody who loved him,
and that he would let his children all come home and live with him
by-and-by, the tears rolled down his cheeks, and he said,--'O! me see my
brothers, then! me not be all alone! Me love Great Spirit; Great Spirit
so good to send little white-face to tell me how to get home.' Then I
could not help crying myself, mother, for I thought I should like to
meet Quady's brothers there."

"Ah! bress de Lord, but it am good as a small bible to hear dat chile
talk;" was heard in a suppressed voice, as it went stable-ward.

Day after day passed, and that little one was often seen, attended by
old Nep, or in the arms of the faithful Vingo, on her way to the low
home over the commons, much to the horror of sensitive mothers, who
shook their heads and said, "she is a strange child." Never was
Sea-flower happier than when she might be allowed to go and see the
Indian; and it was indeed a strange sight to see that red man, the only
representative of a departed tribe, gazing upon the little one, as she
talked to him of Jesus and his word.

The autumn of the year had come. It was one of those soul-stirring days
in October, which cannot fail to arouse the most thoughtless mind to a
sense of the wonderful works of creation. The Sea-flower had gone to the
"low home over the commons." Hand in hand, that red man and the tender
child, they went their way, to where he pointed out the graves of his
people; there were no stones, not a mound to mark the spot. Why was
there need of any? He alone knew the place; none others had cared to
know, until now, when the number of his days had well-nigh been told,
this little child, of a summer's day, had breathed upon those ice-bound
springs, till they had broken their bands, and were gliding on in the
bright sun-light, smoothly on,--on, forever. There did the Indian lay
him down, where he would have them bury him; and there, for the first
and last time, did he breathe a prayer over the graves of the departed,
to that Great Spirit, whom he had been taught was the one great
Father of all.

"Mother, poor Quady is not so strong as he used to be; when he pounds
the corn, to make nice cakes for me, his hands tremble, and I notice he
takes all the broth which you send to him, for he says he has no
appetite for anything else."

It was a holiday. A great display of military had arrived from the
continent.

"Sea-flower, you will see the beautiful horses, and the epaulets, the
white plumes, and the shining swords, but they need not think to turn
your brain with all their splendor."

"Brother Harry, I should like to see all those splendid things, but I
had much rather go and see Quady to-day; it is several days since I have
been there, and we have such good times! I love to talk with him
so well."

"You strange little creature, you can go to see the Indian any time."

"Yes, but some how I feel as if I would like to go to-day. I know he
will like to see me;" and the child was soon on her way to the "low
home," with Nep, who carried the pail of broth. As she drew near, she
saw that Quady was not sitting at his door, as he usually did, to watch
for her, but instead, the door was closed, and everything around was
still; nothing was heard, save the breakers as they dashed upon the
shore. Opening the door, which was never fast, she saw before her, the
form of poor Quady, stretched upon the rude bed, and as he tossed to and
fro, in an uneasy slumber, he muttered the words,--"pale-face--gone."

"Pale-face has come! Quady, Pale-face has come to you! Look up, and take
some of the nice broth which I have brought."

Slowly he opened his eyes, and seeing the little one was by his side, he
raised his hands aloft and said, "Me thank Great Spirit; me afraid Great
Spirit take me home without seeing little Pale-face once more. Me see my
brothers soon; a little while, and Pale-face come to see us. Great
Spirit bless little Pale-face," he feebly said; "she make poor
Quady happy."

With that dying blessing his spirit took its flight. He had passed away,
the last one of his kind, he who had lived a life of solitude, apart
from the world, looking upon the white man as having taken from him his
home, his lands, and the forests which would have been his if the white
man had not, long years ago, laid them low; yes, he had breathed a
blessing, with his last breath, upon the pale-face. He who had not a
brother left to bury him, had thanked God that the Pale-face had come to
close his eyes; yes, it was the voice of childhood which had made his
last moments happy, had pointed out the road which leads the
wanderer home.

It was a scene to melt the hardest heart; that little child, scarcely as
high as the rude couch, reaching up to close the eyes of him whom she
should see no more. As she sat by his side, and looked around the room
where she had spent so many happy hours, a sense of loneliness crept
over her. There was the pipe which he had smoked, laid away on the
little chimney-piece, and by the bed-side was the pail of broth with
which she had thought to please him so much; and at the remembrance she
burst into tears, and her tears fell upon the hand of him who lay
sleeping. Neptune, hearing the sad tones of his mistress, came and
looked into her face; and when she took no notice of him, he crouched at
her feet, and howled piteously. And thus they found them, for the little
one could not think of leaving her dear Quady there alone. They buried
him, as he had wished, by the side of his brothers; and when the
Sea-flower gazed into that narrow house, so dark and still, she looked
up and said, "Mother, I shall love to look at the stars oftener now, for
he has gone to live among those bright and shining ones." Sadly did the
child miss her visits to the "low home," and when in years to come her
thoughts wandered over the past, her love for the poor lone Indian had
not diminished. The stars shone brighter and brighter, even as her light
was "shining unto the perfect day."

"What little missy look up in de sky so much for?" asked Vingo, as he
walked by the shore, with Sea-flower in his arms, as was his custom of a
bright moonlit evening.

"O, Vingo, it is so beautiful! I was watching those fleecy clouds, until
they seemed to be little waves in which the stars were sailing upward,
up, and as they looked back to us, their smile seemed to grow purer; and
I think I can see Quady among them. Don't you see him, Vingo?"

"Does you mean dose little black specks in de moon, missy?"

"No, Quady is one of the bright ones now; and you will be made white,
too, when you go there. Don't you want to go and be one of those bright
ones, Vingo?"

"Does all de white folks go dar?"

"Yes, if they love God when they are here; if they are good he will
take them home to be with him."

"Den I don't tink I wants to go dar."

"O, Vingo! that is very wicked! Why don't you want to go?"

"'Cause, missy, dey say old slabe massa am one ob de best men in de
whole ob Berginny, and I's 'fraid he catch Bingo and tie him up again."

At that moment a shadow was seen in the distance, and Harry came
bounding over the ground on the wings of the wind.

"Ah! I thought I should find you here, Sea-flower, making the
acquaintance of some of your sisters, as they hold up their heads in the
moonlight. Vingo, what do you think? Father has received orders to sail
in a week!"

"O, go way, massa Harry; what you mean by dat?" said Vingo, letting fall
his lower jaw, while the whites of his eyes looked as if they had some
time or other been in contact with a ghost.

"I mean that the Tantalizer will be ready for sea in a week, and Father
will go master of her on a Cape Horn voyage. O, if father would only let
me go with him, how delighted I should be! But he says I am too young,
that I am not strong enough; yet I know of boys two or three years
younger than I am, who have been around Cape Horn, and are now making a
second voyage. I have often heard old Captain Wendall tell of the first
voyage father made, when he was but ten years old, and how nimbly he ran
up to the mast-head, and was always the first to discover the whale as
she spouted, and would sing out, 'there she blows!' equal to an old tar.
I must prevail on father to let me go with him."

"Dear, dear Harry, do not talk so! Only think how mother will feel to
have father go! He has been at home so long, ever since I was born, and
how would she feel to have you both go away, and no one but Vingo and
myself to comfort her."

"No one but you to comfort her? You are worth a dozen like me, darling!"
and the little manly fellow threw his arms around her neck, and felt
that he had the very best sister in the world.

"Ah! young massa, I tinks you hab de right sort ob spirit; you's born to
be no land-lubber; but it my 'pinion you had better stay wid good, kind
missus and de Sea-flower a while longer; you not find a better berth,
I'm tinkin'."

"No, that I shall not; let me go where I will, I shall not find a
mother like her; and as for Sea-flower, I don't believe there was ever
another in the whole ocean like her."

"How funny you talk, Harry; you make me think of little Moses in the
bulrushes."

"Ah! there goes a gull, flying over my right shoulder, headed seaward;
the sailor's omen of good luck; perhaps father may change his mind,
after all."

"Harry, I want you to promise me you will say nothing about going to sea
before mother; will you promise?"

"I never could refuse you anything, little pussy, but you do not say
anything about yourself; would you not like to get rid of such a
graceless fellow?"

The child's sympathies had been so wrapped up in her mother's grief,
that it had not occurred to her mind how much she should miss her dear
father; and as she thought of Harry, who had always played so gently
with her, and came every night, after her mother had heard her prayers,
and told such beautiful stories, about the good little fairies, until
she fell asleep, and dreamed they had all come to be her sisters; and
was awakened in the morning by the tramping of so many little feet, (in
near proximity to those brown curls, which seemed to have been awake
long before their mistress), and saw fourteen blue eyes looking at her,
besides two roguish black ones, behind the curtain, which she did not
see, and would wonder if it might not have been the kittens, after all,
that had whispered in her ear. As she thought of all his kindness to
her, she was silent; and as the negro drew the mantle more closely about
her, he wondered if the little drop which fell upon his hand was of dew.

Preparations for the sailing of the Tantalizer were rapidly going on.
She was a stout-built ship of three hundred tons burthen, the pride of
her owners; and why should she not have been? for many a rich cargo had
she brought to them, thousands and thousands of dollars had she added to
their possessions; many a hurricane had she outrode, and as she sat so
proudly on the water, she looked as if she might outlive many more.
Captain Grosvenor had sailed master of her upon six successive voyages,
making a "telling" voyage each time, until, his fortune becoming
sufficiently ample, he had thought to spend the rest of his days on
shore; but, after a respite of seven years, he had become so restless,
and so longed to try his fortune upon the water again, that, receiving a
flattering offer from those in whose employ he had formerly sailed, he
consented, as he said, "for the last time," to make a voyage in his
favorite Tantalizer. Mrs. Grosvenor had earnestly hoped that her husband
would follow the sea no more, knowing that their means were sufficient
to supply all their wants; and since God in his providence had consigned
this little one to their care, she had congratulated herself that there
was one more tie to bind her husband to his home; and, indeed, the child
was as dear to him as if she had been his own flesh and blood; and as
those last seven years upon shore stood up before him, now that he was
about to leave all that was dear to him, as having been spent more in
keeping with God's laws than in any previous part of his life, he felt
that he was a better man. Naturally of a noble, generous disposition, he
had gained the respect of all who knew him. Pleasant and gentlemanly in
his manners, he was no less firm in his duties on shipboard, and his
stern word of command was received by his men with the same hearty
"aye, aye," as when he cracked a joke with them over the club-room fire.
Harry had kept his promise in regard to his wish to go with his father;
and when he looked into his mother's face, and saw how mournful was her
smile, he felt that it would indeed be cruel to think of leaving her.
But when he heard the sailors saying, as he clambered up the rigging,
that it was a pity such a sprightly little fellow could not go along
with them, his desire to ship for the voyage knew no bounds, and seeking
his father, in the cabin, he had a long interview with him, gaining the
promise that when he should return he would secure for him a good lay,
and that he might then commence the nautical career, which the captain
plainly saw his inclinations had marked out.

The day had arrived when the ship would sail. Every thing had been made
ready for a long voyage, should the captain not meet with his usual good
fortune, which was considered unnecessary by her owners, so sanguine
were they of her success; such implicit faith did they place in the
abilities of her captain, that in securing his services, they looked
upon the voyage as told. Ah! who can tell if that proud ship may ever
return? Was there not one who looked upon her thus? Within that happy
home, now so desolate, sat the wife of him who had just taken his leave
of her, and the bitterness of that hour who can tell? She only who has
tasted the same cup of sorrow; she who has given to the mercies of the
deep him whom she holds most dear on earth. Such an one can indeed
realize what were the feelings of that wife, as she sat at the window,
her eye fixed upon the ship which was bearing away him whom she might
never see more. The white sail is smaller and smaller, until it appears
but a speck, and is finally lost in the distance. And then what a sense
of desolation! Oh, might we all seek for strength in time of trouble, of
Him who will not turn a deaf ear to the cries of his children! Who hath
said, "As thy day, so shall thy strength be." Would that all might seek
for comfort in the hour of trial, as did that stricken one,--in prayer!
The Sea-flower had, with Harry, accompanied her father in the ship, as
she was towed out by the steamer over the bar. As they were about to
cast off, when the steamer should return, the father sought to bid his
children farewell. Turning to his boy, he bade him be all that a son and
brother should be. With one long embrace his eye rested upon the
Sea-flower; his voice failed him.

"Father," said the child, "you will soon come to us again; then you will
never leave us;" pointing to a little cross which she had privately
embroidered and set up in his state-room, she said, "you will be happy,
father, so happy, on the water! But sometimes, when the stars look down
upon you, or the great waves break over your ship, you will want to see
us; and when you look at the pretty name which you gave me," (pointing
out the word Natalie, which was wrought upon the foot of the cross),
"you may know that I am thinking of you. Our hearts shall be with you."

With a father's blessing upon his children, he suffered them to be taken
away; and as the loud huzza went up from the deck of the steamer, he saw
his little one gazing back upon him, from amidst the waving banners,
with a look which sank into his heart; her gentle words were still
sounding in his ear, and it would seem as if that voice of childhood
was of riper years. Her words were never forgotten. Over the spirit of
the child there came that which she had never known before; ah! gentle
one, it is but the first drop of bitterness which must be mingled with
the sweets in every life. May the All-Father keep thy feet from hidden
thorns, strewing thy pathway only with the sweet flowers of innocence!
He had gone; and the heart of the Sea-flower echoed,--"he has gone;" the
very breeze which wafted him from home sighed "gone." Is there a heart
which never knew the tone?

CHAPTER IV.

WESTWARD HO!

  "I hear the tread of pioneers,
     Of nations yet to be;
   The first low wash of waves, where soon
     Shall roll a human sea."

        J.G. WHITTIER.

  "Far on the prairies of the West,
     A lovely floweret grows;
   With glowing pen, each traveller oft
     Describes the Prairie Rose.

  "For ages there alone it grew,
     The prairie's gem and pride;
   But now the Rose of Sharon fair
     Is blooming at its side."

        MRS. J.H. HANAFORD.

"Och, sure, mem, and it's meself that's afther a thinking that we shall
be raching good ould Ireland, from the ither side of this great Ameriky,
if we kape on."

"Have patience, Biddy, we shall be there to-morrow at this time; there
is nothing like keeping up good courage."

"Cabbage! mem, and it's meself has not seen a hapurth of a cabbage since
we stopped the last time, to get a bit to sustain hunger, sure; I think
mem, they must have rolled off, when the kitchen mirror and gridiron
dhraped down," said Biddy, desirous to atone in some way for the
disappearance of sundry heads of cabbage, which she had found means of
disposing of, even in its unprepared state, while buried among washtubs,
cheese-presses, and churns.

"Bad luck to the likes of it, indade!" and she caught at a small
dining-table just in time to set it upon its legs again.

"I don't wonder Biddy complains, mother; it's enough to weary the
patience of Job, riding so slowly over these dismal prairies; it would
really do my eyes good to get sight of a hill, or any thing to break
this continual sameness. What can father be thinking of, to take us to
such a lonely, out of the way place? Never mind, Biddy, we shall have
the pleasure of seeing where the sun goes to."

Thus spake the occupants of a long, covered wagon, moving westward,
drawn by four stout oxen, with as many horses and cows following in
the rear.

"Drive on there, Patrick," called out Mr. Santon, who was riding his own
horse by their side; "drive on, we must get to the settlement by
another night."

"Yes, sir, I am afther urging on the bastes for the last piece or two;
but the crathurs have come so far, they don't know, sure, if they be
jist laying home, or afther a raching there."

Mr. Santon had formerly been a merchant in the city of Boston; he had
been doing a heavy business, and had accumulated a handsome fortune, but
being one of those easy sort of persons, who think everybody as honest
as themselves, he had, in an evil hour, endorsed largely for those who
were worse than swindlers, who had not even as much as thanked him for
his name; and he had lost nearly all in that one act. Many friends he
had, who knowing his worth, had kindly offered their assistance, and
would willingly have set him on his feet again, for they disliked to
lose so valuable a citizen from their midst; but he, declining all
assistance from those, whom he knew gave not grudgingly, thanked them
with a grateful heart, and taking what little was left to him after
paying his debts, had started with his wife and only child, and two
servants whom he had retained, for the far West, intent upon leading a
quiet, unmolested life, in the bosom of his family. Haying supplied
himself with all requisite tools, etc., for tilling the ground, for
which occupation he had always a great desire, they had now, after a
fatiguing journey of fourteen days, arrived at the little log-house, in
the western part of the state of Ohio, which was to be their future
home. This was a great change for Mrs. Santon, who had spent the most of
her days in the city, and had always servants to call upon for her least
wish, never being obliged to lift a finger against her desire. She was
one of the best of women, with a kind word for every one, and greatly
did the poor, upon whom she had bestowed so many gifts of charity,
lament her departure. In the church, the sewing-society, by the bedside
of the suffering, and in the home of poverty, had she a place; her worth
was known to all. Cheerfully did she resign all to go with her husband,
to follow him, wherever it might be; with him would she be happy in
their home, though it might be ever so humble. Their daughter of ten
years was a sprightly, pretty child, with dark hair, and bright, black,
tell-tale eyes, which looked as if they might make sad havoc, when a few
more years should have added to their brilliancy. Resembling her mother
in features, her disposition was like her father; free and easy in her
ways, she was happy so long as every thing bent to her wishes; but her
mother could not but notice with regret that her child had acquired a
hasty, impatient manner, which the indulgence of her father in no way
served to improve; yet she was a warm-hearted little creature, and it
was with great difficulty that Mrs. Santon could bring herself to
censure her. Still the mother must do her duty toward her child, and
many a prayer had been offered, that she might have strength to
act aright.

The long covered wagon stopped at the door of their new home just as the
sun was going down.

There was but one house in sight of their little cabin, and that was, if
anything, still smaller than their own; nothing was to be seen on all
sides but wide prairie land, and as the little Winifred cast her eye
around, she exclaimed:

"O! mother, what shall we do here? I am sure I shall not like to stay;
there is no one here."

"You forget that God is here, my child," said the mother; and she
commenced assisting Biddy in setting up some few articles that would
make them comfortable through the night, while her husband, with Pat,
attended to the out-door affairs.

"Och, and sure, mem," said Biddy, as she put her emerald head in at the
door of the cabin; "faith, and it's not yesilf, mem, that's going to
rest in the same room with the likes of me."

"Yes, Biddy, I see no other way; we shall have to get used to western
life. I think, by partitioning off one corner, here, with blankets, we
shall get along very well; and then it will be right handy for you in
the morning to get the breakfast; you will not have the trouble of
coming down stairs."

"Yes, mem, yese makes everything so asy like! but it's such strange
times for yese, mem!" and Biddy went flying about the room, her face
glowing with excitement, pulling at every uneven log in the house,
fully persuaded there must be some other apartment, if no more than a
closet; and as she caught at a loose board, which only separated them
from the open air, she looked through, delighted that she had discovered
another room, and that her mistress would not now be obliged to share
the same apartment with herself; for as the remembrance of certain
devotional exercises to be gone through, over each bead in her rosary,
came to her, she had her doubts if the "blissed St. Pathrick," (who, for
reasons best known to herself, was her favorite saint), would condescend
to listen to petitions offered from such near proximity to the
unbelieving Protestants; not that she thought her mistress was not a
most excellent woman, but she was a Protestant, and often had she called
upon the blissid St. Patrick, to "bring her dear lady over to the thrue
faith." As she bent down to look into the opening, congratulating
herself upon the discovery, a large cat darted through, full into her
face, and ran with speed out at the door.

"Och, murther! and may the good saints presarve us alive! What will
become of us at all?" and in her fright she went headlong into a pile of
milk-pans, her unwieldy arms making certain involuntary revolutions,
causing the air to resound with a chorus, which might have done credit
to the first callithumpian in the land.

"Ho! what is all this?" cried Mr. Santon, who had stepped in at the
commencement of the prelude; "what are you looking for under those
pans, Biddy?"

"Sure, sir, and it's mesilf that's afther being exterpretated intirely!
The varmints! faith, there was a dozen, sir, came scratching at me;" and
she pointed at the aperture, as if in dread expectation of seeing their
ghosts in pursuit; but lo! instead, there was the full, round face of
Pat, who, having been left to take up his night's lodging with the
creatures, in the apology for a barn, had espied the light, and not
being able to resist the temptation of getting one more glimpse at the
"swate Biddy," he had ventured to look in, and catching a glimpse of her
woebegone face from among the shining tins, he exclaimed:

"Och, honey dear, and has it come to this? that yese obliged to make
yese bed of the likes of that! And if ye'll wait a bit it's mesilf
that'll run and fetch some of the nate, saft sthraw, that ye can fill
the tins, and 'twill do ye betther; indade, and it's none but a hathen
that could endure the likes of that!"

"Ah! Pathrick, is it ye? and was ye pint up in there wid the crathurs?"

"Yes, it's mesilf that will be risting with the bastes, the night," said
Pat, thinking she had alluded to the creatures in the barn; "and I'll be
wishing ye swate dhrames, and a plinty' of thim;" saying which he
disappeared, leaving the trembling Biddy in great anxiety of mind as to
what should be his fate.

As the little Winnie peeped out from behind the screen, when they had
all retired, and saw Biddy counting her beads, with her eye still fixed
upon the spot where she had last seen the smiling Patrick, she laughed
outright, in spite of the crevices in the roof overhead, and she laid
her down and looked up at the stars which came twinkling in upon her,
'till those great black eyes gradually diminished in size, and her
little brain was busily engaged among the familiar scenes of the home
which she had left so far away.

Cautiously did Biddy, with the first dawn of day, advance toward where
she had dreamed her poor "Pathrick" was in close contact with the
veritable bastes, and the family was awakened from their slumbers by her
loud tones, lamenting that "niver a vistage of Pathrick, the cats, or
the ante-room was left," for on looking out, the only object which met
her gaze was the sun, which was just coming up in the east.

"What's the time, Biddy?" asked Mrs. Santon.

"And it's jist about three hours afther sunrise, mem."

"I think you must be mistaken, Biddy; we cannot surely have been
sleeping so long after our usual time for rising."

"Indade, and the sun bes jist coming in sight, and it must have been a
powerful time travelling over, sure. I'm thinking they must be afther
dhrying their takettles a long time, back there in ould Boston."

Time passed on, and our adventurers were becoming more and more
accustomed to western life. Mr. Santon had found his lands to be in a
very good state of cultivation, the former owner having been a Dutchman,
who thoroughly understood what a good farm ought to be. Mrs. Santon had
proved herself to be one of the best of housekeepers, and greatly did
she pride herself on her abilities for filling the station of a farmer's
wife. As they sat down of an evening, to their meal of bacon and Indian
cakes, and contrasted their present circumstances with what had been
their former situation in life, they could not repress a smile at the
change; but they were happy, contented in their humble home, and the
bread which had been earned by the sweat of the brow was sweeter, the
social enjoyments dearer, than when in fashionable life they had been
obliged to live with an eye to the customs of society; even Winnie had
found some attractions in their little western home. The neighbors
comprising those who lived for twenty miles around, the nearest being a
mile distant, were pleasant, light-hearted people, and the civilities
which were shown to the new comers were without end.

A small log-house, unlike the others of the settlement in its exterior,
inasmuch as it was honored with an additional door, served as their
place of worship; and it was with great joy that Winnie looked forward
to Sunday morning, when, mounted upon her pony, she might ride off for
six miles to the church, accompanied by her father and mother, each
riding their respective horses. Arrived at the church, they dismounted
at the great horseblock, leaving their hats and mantles thereon, as was
the custom; and it was a pretty sight to see the ladies walking into
church, their cheeks glowing with exercise, and the fresh, morning air.
As Winnie entered, her long curls composing themselves after a frolic
with the breeze, many a sly glance was aimed at her from the neighboring
pews, in spite of the consciences of their owners reminding them that it
was holy day. It was a source of great comfort to Mrs. Santon, that she
as able to come so far to this place of worship. The little society
numbered not over forty persons, yet those words spoken by our Saviour,
"where two or three are gathered together in my name, there will I be in
the midst of them," came with renewed freshness to her mind, each time
she entered those doors, and she felt that she had never tasted the
bliss of uninterrupted love for Christ, as now.

The shepherd of this little flock was a man fearing God, just, and
upright; his services in the cause of Christ were offered voluntarily,
without money, or price. Coming, as he had, in his old age, to spend
the remainder of his days in the family of a beloved son, he had found
with joy that his declining years might be profitably employed; that he
might earn that reward which is promised to those who make a right use
of the talents which God has given them; that he might merit those
blessed words, "well done, good and faithful servant." His labors among
this people had not proved ineffectual; many had been brought to see the
great mercies of their Redeemer, souls had been converted to Christ, and
as the song of praise went up from beneath that humble roof, the glad
shouts were borne aloft, and angels joined in the chorus.

It was a beautiful afternoon, everybody was busy about the farm of Mr.
Santon; Winnie was sitting at the door, intent upon her own thoughts,
when she caught sight of their good minister approaching upon his horse,
his silver locks flying in the wind. Biddy, learning they were to have a
visit from the "Protestant praste," turned first pale, then red, and
when the old gentleman dismounted at the door, she let fall the shoulder
of bacon, which she was preparing for the supper, and darted behind the
screen, in her haste hitting her foot against the lowest tin, in a pile
of two dozen, which brought the rest down to inquire into the state
of affairs.

The presence of the old gentleman served to impart a cheerfulness to all
who gazed upon his happy countenance, and his kind tones, as he inquired
for the welfare of the family, penetrated the screen, reaching the ear
of Biddy, who sat wondering what the good father Teely would say, if he
knew she had so far sinned as to remain under the same roof with a
"wicked Protestant praste;" but as she heard him speaking to Pat, who
had come in of an errand, with such a pleasant voice, she ventured a
peep out, and the form of her thoughts just at that moment, might have
been a little, a very little, savoring of heresy. Suffice it to say,
when the old gentleman took his departure, there was a peculiar twinkle
in Biddy's eye, and she had so far overcome her aversion to the
"imposther" as to have had a few private words with him, which had by no
means decreased her usual flow of good spirits. It was evident that
Biddy "had on her high heels," for the rest of that evening. As Winnie
strolled over the farm, enjoying the evening breeze, reflecting upon her
good pastor's words, her attention was suddenly attracted toward the
enclosure where the cows were being milked, by hearing the voice of
Biddy, who, as she "stripped" the patient animal again, for the dozenth
time, was very much engaged with Pat, whose round, smiling face, as he
glanced at her from the opposite side of the creature, shone with
delight; and as the white foam rose higher and higher in Biddy's pail,
so did the warmth of her feelings get the better of her, and those
tell-tale eyes of Winnie's danced with mischief, as she overheard the
following conversation:

"Ah, Pathrick dear, does ye think there is the laste sin in it? And
indade, it's mesilf that's thinking the blissid St. Pathrick would be
afther misthaking him for a good Catholic!"

"And what did he say, honey dear? did he think he could be afther
comforting the likes of us?"

"Thrath, and he did; it was himsilf that said niver a word when I was
spaking to him about it, but was afther showering a blissing upon us,
the dear sowl!"

"But what will the praste say? Biddy, sure he'll be very angry,
intirely."

"Faith, and it's no longer ago than the day afther yesterday, that the
misthress was saying if we confissed our sins with a right spirit, we
should be afther being forgiven; and now, Pathrick, I'm thinking we 'll
be afther getting married, and then there will be a plinty of time for
confissing."

"Och, honey, and that's the thruth for ye," said the assenting Pat, and
together they walked towards the cabin.

Winnie, putting that and that together, made up her mind that Patrick
and Biddy had become tired of a life of single blessedness, and were
seriously contemplating matrimony, which was, indeed the case; and
Biddy, having made known her desires to her mistress, who saw no just
cause why they should not be bound together in the holy bands of
wedlock, the next Wednesday was set apart when Patrick and Biddy would
be made husband and wife.

The day arrived, and Biddy, arrayed in her best snuff-color, with
ribbons and laces to match, stood up with him of her choice, to
pronounce those vows which should make them one, even though the
ceremony should be performed by a Protestant.

"Will you take this woman to be your wedded wife?" spake the reverend
gentleman, in a clear, distinct tone.

"Ah! kape on, kape on!" shouted the enraptured Pat; "don't be throublin
yesilf with questions; dear knows it's mesilf that's in it;" and his
smiling face was mirrored in numerous brass buttons, which were hanging
around his buff vest.

As soon as the old gentleman could get his voice again, for the
boisterous joy of Pat, be turned to the trembling Biddy.

"Do you take this man to be your lawful husband, and leaving all others,
will you cleave unto him alone?"

"Indade, your Riverence!" exclaimed Biddy, "I'll be afther claving him
all the days of me life! It's not mesilf, sure, that was always born and
reared in the great city of Cork, that'll be doing things by halves!"
and in her happiness she caught Pat around the neck, giving him a smack,
which might have been attributed to the opening of the bottle of whiskey
with which Mr. Santon had graced the occasion, had it not been for those
great eyes of Winnie, which would discover the accident, in spite of
their mistress's endeavors to direct their attention elsewhere.

And now Patrick and Biddy were husband and wife. Never was there a more
devoted couple; the days glided pleasantly on, Biddy keeping time in her
endeavors to please her mistress with the joys of her heart; everything
went on cheerfully, not a note of discontent was heard, except that the
little Winnie would sometimes break into sighing for the pleasures of
her early home. Nothing occurred to disturb the quietude of this home in
the West, until early in the ensuing Fall, when Mrs. Santon was taken
with a violent attack of Western fever, which threatening to undermine
her health, Mr. Santon was fearful lest they should be obliged to return
East; but the fever leaving her, she was again able to attend to her
duties, with only an occasional "shake," and the discussion as to their
return was for the present discontinued.

CHAPTER V.

THE OUTWARD BOUND.

  "Go in thy glory o'er the ancient sea,
   Take with thee gentle winds thy sails to swell,
   Sunshine and joy upon thy streamers be;
     Fare thee well, bark; farewell!"

        MRS. HEMANS.

 "Farewell; God knows when we shall meet again.
  I have a faint, cold fear thrilling through my veins,
  That almost freezes up the heat of life."

        SHAKESPEARE'S "ROMEO AND JULIET."

As the dews of heaven fall gently, lulling the flowers to rest, so did
the low, clear voice of the Sea-flower soothe the weary spirits of Mrs.
Grosvenor, as she read from the evening paper the following paragraph:

"Spoken by bark Constitution, of New York, in latitude 39° 20',
longitude 45°, ship Tantalizer, of Nant., Capt. I. W. Grosvenor, eighty
days from home; had taken seventy barrels of sperm oil, and was made
fast to a forty-barrel right whale: would sail for South Seas in a few
days; all well."

"Hurrah for father!" exclaimed Harry; "he will be at home in less than
two years, at that rate, and then he promised me that I should see what
old ocean is made of!"

"My son, you will learn full soon what a life at sea is; your bright
visions may indeed some of them be realized, the many dangers to which
you will be exposed, will not serve to mar your joys, for to such a
heart as yours they will pass unheeded; but for all that, my son, you
will meet with many hardships, of which you little know. I would wish
you never to follow the sea, my boy, but if you are still determined
upon it, when your father returns I shall have to give my consent,
though with reluctance. You will then be old enough to choose your own
pursuits for life, and whatever they may be, remember, Harry, to lead an
honest, upright life, never losing sight of your early instructions, and
the prayers of your mother."

As Mrs. Grosvenor ceased speaking she looked upon her son, and could
hardly realize that her little rosy-cheeked Harry, who had loved to lay
his head upon her bosom, and listen while she told him of his father,
who had gone away over the blue water, to get such pretty things for his
boy, had grown to be a tall lad of fifteen years; and well might she
have been proud of her son, for the nobleness of his soul was apparent
in every feature. As Vingo expressed himself, "Young massa Harry am got
up ob what neber would get used to de atmosphere ob old Berginny."

"Mother," said Harry, "I shall never forget your teachings. I shall
always hold them sacred in my heart, and wherever I go, in whatever
circumstances I am placed, I will be true to you, my mother;" and he
pressed a fervent kiss upon the brow of her who was worthy the name.

As Mrs. Grosvenor returned her son's embrace, she felt that perhaps she
had said too much; that she had been selfish in wishing to have him
always near her; and she observed that he wore an expression of pain, of
deep emotion, which he in vain attempted to conceal.

The Sea-flower had rested her head upon her hand, and while her mother
had been engaged with Harry, a silent spectator might have wondered to
what unseen object those deep oases of love were imparting their
purity. The words of Harry had fallen upon her ear,--"I shall see what
old Ocean is made of;" shall we follow in the train of her musings? they
will lead us not where the fallen tread. On the banks of the still
waters of peace, 'neath the willows, whose tears are of innocence, frisk
the tender lambs, who taste only of the sweets of the green pasture:--"I
shall see what old ocean is made of." Far away in coral dells, where the
nymphs of ocean tune their harps in praise to Nature's God, the
Sea-flower loves to ramble, as if she had been a child in time long
past, and the mysteries of ocean were that childhood's home. Ah, loved
one, thou dost not pause to find what 'tis which makes thy heart to beat
in unison with the murmuring of the waters! perchance those restless
billows are but the echoings of thy soul's desire to breathe that upper
air, and breathing, gasp for more, 'Tis not for us to tell thee that
bright ones came down, and bore the spirit of her who gave thee life, to
that better land, from hence; nor of the dying prayer, "Lord, keep my
child," which was caught up by each listening billow, and the
supplication, e'er since renewed by the voices of the deep.

Why Mrs. Grosvenor had spoken thus, upon this evening to her son, she
could not tell; she felt there was some irresistible power which bade
her speak that charge,--"never lose sight of your early instructions,
and the prayers of your mother." As she retired early for the night,
feeling slightly indisposed, she met the gaze of Harry, which was fixed
upon her, attributing its uncommon earnestness to a determination on his
part to cherish her words. And he never did forget them But, ah! fond
mother, sleep on, take thy rest, and gain strength for the morrow's
rising, for thou knowest not of the cup of sorrow which is being
prepared for thee.

As Harry sat watching the bright flames as they went crackling up the
chimney, his sister came and rested her head upon his shoulder, where
they remained, until Sea-flower, reminding him of the lateness of the
hour, was about to retire, when her brother threw his arm about her,
begging her to remain a little, for, said he, "I shall not always have
my dear sister to comfort me."

"To comfort you! Harry, do you, who are always so light-hearted and
joyous, need comforting?"

"Ah, pussy, but you can make the happiest heart happier. I was thinking
of mother; it is a comfort to me that she has you, Sea-flower, to cheer
her lonely hours."

"I think mother is less sad than she has been, for now she is looking
forward to the time when father shall come home; and I think she
flatters herself that she can dissuade you from going to sea, and then
we shall be an unbroken, happy family once more."

Those words! why had they power to make that boy turn pale? Had he not
been screened from the bright glow of the fire-light, the Sea-flower
must have noticed his agitation, as she looked up for the good-night
kiss; he clasped her in his arms for a moment, and then the door closed
upon her gentle form.

The old clock in the church tower had struck eleven, and Harry heard the
cry of the watch, "all's well." He still stood where he had parted with
his sister; as her last footfall upon the stairs died away, and the
house was hushed for the night, the plans which he had matured long days
ago, for this night's execution, laid fast hold of him. Can it be
possible that the boy is about to forget those last words of his
mother? No, they are still sounding in his ear; and his promise, "I will
not forget the prayers of my mother." But does he consider, in the step
which he is about to take, of the arrow which will pierce that mother's
heart? He walks the room with a quick tread; he does reflect, and pities
his mother from the bottom of his heart, praying that the blow may fall
gently; but he has shipped for a voyage in the Nautilus, and this night,
at high tide, she will sail.

Noiselessly he ascends to his room, and taking his clothes from the
drawer, where they had been placed with care, makes them into a bundle,
not forgetting the little bible, which was given him by his mother only
the day before, as a birthday gift. Pausing in the upper hall, he
listens, if he may get one last faint sound from those he holds so dear;
but save the uneasy slumbers of Vingo, nothing is heard. All is now
ready for his departure; stepping into the parlors, where hang the
portraits of the family, he takes a farewell of each. The Sea-flower and
his mother! his eyes fill with tears, and his heart is swelling into his
throat; he is upon the point of retracing his steps, when his eye rests
upon the features of his father. The daring boldness of the expression,
which the artist had but too well portrayed, fires him with fresh
courage; every nerve thrills with new life, and kissing the inanimate
canvas, as if it were indeed his dear mother and sister, he tore himself
away from home. Walking rapidly down the deserted street, without
venturing a look back, he passes many an endeared object; the old white
church, where he has been accustomed to worship, Sunday after Sunday,
for many years, holds high its head in the bright moonlight, and the
hands of the old town clock upon the tower, seem to beckon him to
return. He falters; it would seem as if the very doors of the church
would open and receive him. Throwing down the bundle, he kneels upon the
door-stone, and breathes a prayer to heaven, to bless those who will
enter therein when he shall be gone. Pressing his lips to the cold stone
where _they_ have trod, he rises, when lo! standing by his side, with
the package of clothes in his mouth, is the old house dog, Nep; and as
the watch in the tower cries, "past eleven o'clock, and all is well," he
looks wistfully into his master's face, as if he would ask, is all well?
What is to be done? in less than half an hour the ship will be towed
out into the stream; there is no time to be lost, but the dog will not
think of leaving his master, for his experience of years tells him it is
a new thing for the boy to be wandering from home at this unseasonable
hour. In vain did Harry attempt to drive the faithful creature from him,
for never having been an unwelcome companion before, the dog did not
understand his master's threatening gestures; yet he could understand
that something was amiss, and for that reason kept close upon his
master's heels, to shield him from all danger.

Arriving at the wharf, the boy once more attempted to drive the dog from
him, when looking around, he espied a bit of rope, with which he made
him fast to a post, and then clambered up the ship's side. Poor Nep,
keeping his eye upon his master, laid him quietly down, until the lines
were cast off, and the ship began to recede from the shore. O, Harry,
could you leave the companion of your infancy thus, made fast to a yard
rope, to shiver in the night air? It was his only alternative, for in
taking Neptune with him he well knew would be robbing the household of
one more endearment. No sooner had the ship started from her moorings,
and Nep saw that his master was being borne away, than he gave a piteous
howl, and with one bound parted the line which held him, and plunging
into the tide, made vigorous attempts to reach the ship.

"Breakers on the larboard bow!" sung out the captain, who stood laughing
to see the labors of the poor animal, who was becoming exhausted; "let's
see who'll have the first harpoon!" and he hurled a billet at the dog's
head as he was going down for the second time. Harry, seeing the action,
cried out, "Save him! who will save my poor Nep?" and fell fainting upon
the deck. Fortunately the hard-hearted man had missed his mark for once,
and by the light of the moon, the poor fellow was seen, just under the
bows, struggling feebly, as if about to give up, when an old tar, who
had heard Harry's cry for help, sprang with the rapidity of thought, and
seizing a rope, made it into a slip-noose, throwing it over the dog's
head, nearly strangling him as he drew him out of the water. Together
they lay motionless upon the deck, Harry and Nep, when the captain
coming along would have stumbled over them, had he not caught at a
halliard near by.

"What in the name of things unheard of, is all this?" exclaimed he,
with an oath; "this indeed is a curious beginning for the little
land-lubber! I've the greatest mind to set him ashore, to come to his
senses at his leisure, and if I'm not greatly mistaken, he's but a young
runaway at best; but we might as well keep him now, he'll do for testing
the strength of our cats, and as for that other critter, Mr. Sampson,
you may hand him over to the steward, and tell him I shall want a nice
over-all when we get out where the ice makes an inch a minute."

Mr. Sampson, who had shipped as boat-steerer, the same that had rescued
old Nep from drowning, lifted Harry in his arms, and carrying him below,
laid him in his own hammock, where he also brought the dog, who was
apparently lifeless, and laid him by his side. It was a long time before
Harry was restored to consciousness, and when he had gained strength
sufficient to raise himself upon one arm, he looked around in the
darkness, perfectly bewildered; but as the remembrance of his situation
slowly came to him, he called aloud, in agony of spirit, "Nep! poor
drowned Neptune!" tossing upon his hammock, his arm came in contact
with the creature's shaggy coat. Could it be Nep? rescued from the
inhuman treatment of the captain? but he did not move! was he alive?
Harry sprang from his bed, and making his way in the darkness he knew
not whither, finally found himself in the captain's state-room, which
was unoccupied, and seizing a candle, reached his hammock just as Mr.
Sampson returned.

"Man alive! where did you get that light?" asked Sampson, apparently
much terrified.

"O, sir, I took the first one I could find, for I must see if my poor
Neptune is dead!" and he bent over him, smoothing his head, calling
loudly, "Neptune! poor Neptune!" Sampson, recognizing the silver
candlestick as belonging in the captain's state-room, hastened to return
it, knowing well what the consequences would be, if that dignitary
discovered that any one had dared to enter his room without orders; and
giving Harry a few friendly hints, as to what his liberties would be,
under their commander, he drew out a mysterious looking bottle from his
jacket-sleeve, and diluting a small quantity of its contents, gave it to
Harry to drink, which in his weak condition did not come amiss. Turning
to the dog, the kind old tar commenced rubbing him vigorously, bathing
his cold limbs with the spirit, glancing occasionally at the gangway, to
see who might darken the descent. The dog at last gave signs of life,
and to Harry's great joy, he looked up and recognized his master,
Sampson assuring him, in his rough way, that the old fellow would soon
be as good as new.

It was the last watch in the morning, and Harry, hearing loud voices on
deck, ventured out. It was a clear, cold morning, the moon had gone
down, and Venus was just rising in the east; on every side was the blue
rolling water. They had left Nantucket miles behind. Sampson, who was on
duty, seeing the boy looking out, as if he had come to the conclusion
that the island had been submerged, shook out a reef in the line which
he was making fast, that he might catch the boy's ear, and pointing to a
dim light far down in the distant horizon, he remarked, "Look well, it's
old Sankoty; I'm thinking you'll have seen different days when you make
her again."

"Halloo, there, aft!" called out the captain; "has that kitten got to
mewing? Bear a hand there, and square your mizzen topsail," added he, a
tone of mockery.

The order had hardly left his lips, when Harry, with a hearty "aye, aye,
sir!" sprang into the cross-trees, and in a twinkling had reached the
masthead, calling out in a voice which brought to the mind of each old
tar that he had once a mother,--"square away it is, sir."

The captain could scarce believe his eyes; seeing by the smile upon the
face of every man on deck, that he had been decidedly sold, he hailed
him again.

"Mast-head, ahoy!"

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Take your bearings from the fog bank to your leeward, and tell me how
she heads."

The boy hesitated; he "saw which way the wind blew," and bethinking
himself of a small pocket compass which he had about him, sung out,
"East-south-east by east, sir, two points off." The man at the wheel
responded, "East-south-east by east, two points off."

It would not do; the captain saw that he had mistaken his man, and
called all hands to pipe down. As Mr. Sampson passed him, he doffed his
tarpaulin, remarking, "I think, sir, the youngster will do very well for
trying the strength of our cats."

It was evident to Harry, before he had sailed many days under Captain
Jostler, that he had one of the most tyrannical of masters. He had been
a perfect stranger to him when he shipped for the voyage, being a native
of Canada, and from the frozen condition of his heart no one would have
doubted it; had he been a Nantucket man, master Harry would have found
it more difficult in getting away so privately; as it was, no inquiries
were made of him. How different was Harry's situation from what it would
have been had his father procured for him a berth; as it was, he was
doomed to no common hardships, for the captain, having taken a dislike
to him from the first, seemed to take pleasure in making him as
uncomfortable as possible; and had it not been that he was a favorite
with the crew, he would have suffered many times from exposure. Many a
cold, stormy night had he been ordered to take his turn in the watch,
upon deck, in spite of the petitions of the men to fill his place; and
he would walk the deck for hours, to keep from becoming benumbed with
the cold; but, as his mother had predicted, the hardships and dangers to
which he was exposed did not serve to dampen his spirits, and for that
very reason, did the captain shower upon him many abuses; for in spite
of his cruel treatment toward him, he never had had the pleasure of
seeing him look anything but cheerful. At such times, when the wind was
howling fiercely, and the salt spray came dashing over the deck,
freezing upon the cheek of the youthful mariner, but never penetrating
that heart, which was warmed by the remembrance of other days, the boy
would think of home, of his mother, and as he uttered the name of the
Sea-flower aloud, those deep-toned voices of the sea would appear as if
the wild reëchoings of the tone; and the low moanings of the wind
through the shrouds were of pity for that lone one on the deck of the
"outward bound." Could the boy have had old Nep for a companion in his
midnight watchings, he would have served to while away the time, but
that pleasure was not allowed him, for Captain Jostler had threatened to
throw the dog overboard, if he came in contact with him in any of his
walks; consequently Harry had doomed him to a life in the hold, seldom
venturing to visit him, except to carry the food which he had saved from
his own short allowance; and he often wondered how the poor fellow could
keep alive on such short rations, not knowing of the purloined bits
which were bestowed upon him from Sampson's commodious jacket-sleeve.

"There she blows! there she blows!" hailed the look-out from the
mast-head, as a school of whales hove in sight, about three miles
astern, one afternoon, when they had been four months on the whaling
grounds. It was the first discovery that had been made, they having been
thus far unsuccessful. All hands were immediately called up; every man
was at his post, making ready for the coming scene of action; not as a
man-of-war, in the charging of cannon, the priming of musketry, and the
brandishing of swords, a battle between man and man, but the boats were
lowered, the harpoons were got out, and everything was made ready for an
encounter with the monster of the ocean. Now was the time when the
captain would exhibit his skill as a whaler; all depends on his
management as to their success; he must be cool, and collected, working
systematically; for not only does it require great skill and caution in
the capturing of the whale, but there are many dangers attendant upon
the encounter.

"There she blows!" No sooner did Captain Jostler hear the report, than
it seemed as if he would go beside himself; every man was ready to do
his duty, and had they possessed the right kind of commander, might have
done well; but where there is no head, nothing is accomplished.
Everything was confusion; the captain, springing into the first boat,
bade his men follow, leaving, beside Harry, but two worthless fellows,
who hardly knew a skysail from a jib-sheet, in charge of the ship. Harry
kept his eye upon the boats for hours; he perceived they were evidently
having a hard time of it. Running aft to get a glass, as they distanced
him, he discovered a fog had sprang up, and was shutting in heavily on
all sides; he returned to mark the boats; they were nowhere to be seen;
he had lost them entirely; nothing was to be seen on all sides but thick
fog banks! What was to be done? where they were, how far from the boats,
and in what direction, they knew not. The boy was aware that they were
all ignorant of the management of the ship, and what was worse, should
the least breeze spring up, they would be borne,--they knew not whither.
A couple of hours passed, and the fog did not lift. Night was coming on,
and from the increased darkness, together with a low, rumbling noise of
the sea, it was evident a storm was brewing. Harry anxiously walked the
quarter deck; it would be certain destruction if they remained in that
position till night should overtake them. The boy called to the men,
asking what was to be done; but they in terror could do nothing but
lament their situation, calling out against the captain for leaving them
in such a state. Harry hesitated; what was done must be done speedily.
To take in sail was his first thought; then, with the assistance of the
clumsy seamen, he rolled out a small cannon-piece, and for one long hour
did he keep up an incessant fire. The coming storm was now plainly
discernible; the distant rolling of thunder was heard, the sea was
agitated, and occasionally a flaw would shake the rattlings. They were
in momentary expectation that the storm would burst upon them. Harry had
left his firing, and ascending the hurricane deck, stood with folded
arms, as if bracing himself to meet the foe. It is coming in all its
fury! kind heaven! the fog lifts! it rolls itself away as it were a
great scroll. The ink-black heavens are fearfully majestic, seen in the
lightning's lurid glare. A speck! yes, 't is the boats! do they see
them? Once more the boy flies to the cannon, not pausing to see if they
are nearing the ship; his heart beats wildly; 'tis their only chance for
life! the hurricane has burst upon them! the enraged deep responds
loudly to the deafening roar! Once again the feeble voice of the cannon
is doing its best to be heard, when lo! the flash mingling with the
forked lightnings which play in the rigging, reveals the men, as they
come tumbling over the ship's side! They are saved! saved by that noble
boy, who does not know of their approach, so intent is he upon his
exertions, until Sampson clasps him in his arms, and a "God bless you!"
is upon the lips of every man, save the captain, who, having received a
slight wound from a harpoon, and irritated by their bad luck, utters a
curse which vies in blackness with that dreadful night.

"Down your helm!" shouted the captain; "hard down your helm!" The order
was hardly given, when they were thrown on their beam ends; down, down
they went, as if never to rise again, completely engulfed in the dark
abyss! The boy, where is he? down in the hold, his arm made fast to the
collar of old Neptune, that they may go down together; he kneels, his
mother's gift, the bible, in his hand, calmly awaiting his time. Nature
seems terrified, yet that boy knows no fear. Crash succeeds crash; ah,
who can describe the scene! He alone who has stood upon the frail plank,
which only separates him from death. Again a terrific crash,--their
masts have gone by the board! It would seem that the enraged billows
were bent upon their destruction. Still their stout bark is unwilling to
give up, and trembling from stem to stern, she clings to life, nobly
resisting the gigantic attacks of the storm-king, who, having fought
with terrific fierceness through the livelong night, puts on a less
demon-like expression as his strength is well nigh spent, and the gray
dawn sees no traces of the despoiler, who perhaps has slain thousands,
save the swelling surges, which angrily gaze as if disappointed of
their prey.

At the first dawn of day, Harry went on deck to learn their situation.
What a change had been wrought in a few hours. Their masts had been
carried away, the decks had been swept clean; and he learned that
several poor fellows had lost their hold, and were not seen more.

"Well, I'll be d----d if that son of a cannibal hasn't sneaked away into
some hole, and kept his footing," exclaimed the captain, as he saw the
boy appear above deck; "I was in hopes he had found safe quarters in
Davy Jones's locker! But there's no getting rid of such scalawags!"

"Captain Jostler," cried Mr. Sampson, raising his hat, "it's none of my
business, and you may knock me down the next minute, if you please, but
God knows there's not a man aboard but owes his life to that boy. I have
no mutinous designs, sir, but at such a moment as this I will speak,
sir, come what will, and thank God the boy had sense enough to go below,
when he knew he could be of no use here."

The captain looked daggers; he was about to seize Sampson by the throat,
when a voice from the assembled crew was heard:

"Three cheers and long life to the boy, captain or no captain!
_Hurrah!_ HURRAH!! HURRAH!!!" shouted the grateful tars, making the
welkin ring.

If Jostler had had the heart of a brave, noble sea-captain, he would
have fought right and left till the last, ere his men should dare to
show such insubordination, setting his authority at defiance; but he was
a coward, and they were whole-hearted seamen, who would not see the
innocent trampled upon, consequently the villain had to swallow his
wrath; but he was determined to have his revenge, and Sampson noticed
that he cast an evil eye upon the boy.

Upon examination it was found they had sustained no injuries, besides
the loss of the masts, except that a small leakage had been made near
the bows, and that was soon repaired by the carpenter, who proceeded to
rig jury-masts, and it was not long before they were put in a condition
capable of running into the islands for repairs.

About sunrise signals of distress were heard, and by the glass, a
dismasted ship was made out, a long way astern, apparently in a sinking
condition. The captain appeared to take little notice of her, and as the
mate ventured to inquire if they should "'bout ship," he answered,
"Thunder! no, we are safe; let them run their own chance."

Harry, hearing his reply, was shocked. Could the man turn a deaf ear to
those repeated sounds of distress, when it was in his power to save
them? Ah, boy, it is even so! but he is not a man. Harry could endure
the thought no longer, as fainter and fainter grew the reports, as they
bore away from them; he begged Sampson to implore the captain to return,
Sampson telling him "it was of no use, that it would not do to cross
him again."

"Then I will go myself to him; he cannot have the heart to leave them to
perish!"

"Rash boy, your life will be the penalty! you must not do it."

"I will do my duty, though I should die for it! there is the least
possibility of his hearing me, and what is one life compared with, it
may be, a hundred."

"Stay, mad boy!" cried Sampson; but he had gone.

Reaching the quarter-deck, upon his knees he implored the captain to
return. "Think, if it were your father, brother, or a son, in that
hopeless condition, would you not render them all the assistance in
your power?"

"I have three brothers and a father upon the ocean," vociferated the
demon; "for aught I know it may be one of them! but were they all aboard
that hulk yonder, I would not return! But who are you, sirrah, that
dares to usurp my power? Now, upstart, you shall know your place!" and
he seized him by the collar, bore him aft, lashed him to a spar, called
for the cat, and lifting it high in air,--it falls, but the cursed
invention of man's cruelty falls wide of its mark! Ere its descent had
scarred that fair brow, a rush was heard from the main gangway, and old
Neptune, with a fierce growl, has fastened his teeth in the monster's
flesh! Quick as thought his master called him off, and every man stood
trembling, as they observed the captain feeling for his pistols; but his
strength failed him, the dog had met his teeth in the wound received by
the mismanagement of the harpoon, tearing the flesh nearly from off his
limb. It really was a pitiable sight to behold. Faint from the loss of
blood, he was carried below, where his wound was dressed by one of the
men, having no regular surgeon aboard, consequently its fatality was not
realized. The groans and writhings of the sufferer were heart-rending;
all day long did he rave, imploring Sampson, who attended him, to "take
the fiend away! that he was being devoured alive!" and thus did he toss
upon his bed till toward evening, when a change for the worse came over
him. Sampson saw that the seal of death was stamped upon his features,
and at set of sun, with an imprecation upon his dying lips, he had
breathed his last. O, how fearful to enter that spirit land thus
unprepared! to come before our Judge with a soul stained in the deepest
sins, trembling with its burden of guilt. Lord, grant that we be not
thus found when thou shalt call! Give us strength to overcome the world,
the flesh, and the devil, so that at the last, we shall taste those joys
which exist "where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at
rest." They buried him in the deep sea. Perhaps his body lay side by
side with those who, through his unfeeling heart, had found a watery
grave; but we trust that, unlike him, they had gone to meet the reward
of having lived an holy life,--gone to the "sailor's home," in
the skies.

The stars shone out, one by one, in the firmament, when the king of day
had descended. Calmly the night looked down, and undisturbed were
Harry's thoughts, as seated upon the taffrail, old Neptune by his side,
he once again breathed the air of liberty. Not that he rejoiced that he
was thus freed from him who had kept him in perfect slavery, for he
alone had dropped a tear over the uncoffined burial of his persecutor;
but his heart was filled with gratitude, as he looked into the peerless
night,--gratitude to Him who has given us a soul, that we may admire the
works of his hands. As Harry sat musing, turning from the heavenly orbs
to their semblance on the bosom of the placid waters, he observed, as it
were, a fallen star, mirrored therein, but rousing his dreamy senses, he
found it was a small, shining object, floating near them. He drew it
from the water; it was a block of wood, in the form of an octagon,
highly polished, inlaid with bits of pearl, forming grotesque figures,
and thickly studded with some bright mineral, representing stars, which
gave it a very handsome appearance.

"Well, if the youngster isn't picking up moonshine," remarked Sampson,
examining the curiosity. "Some poor fellow designed that for his
sweetheart, likely; but I suppose it will make but little difference
with her, if she hears he's among the missing, she can just as well set
her colors for another. These bright-winged butterflies go upon the
principle that 'there's as good fish in the sea as ever was caught.'"

"O, ho, Sampson," cried the jolly faced mate, who had now taken the
captain's berth, "you are inclined to give the fair ones no quarters. I
shouldn't wonder if they had given you the slip, in some of your
cruisings."

"Well, sir, nothing of that kind, exactly; I never had much notion for
shipping under one captain for life."

"A little frightened, eh?"

"Well, between you and I, I was a little skeery, for fear I should find
my mate at the helm."

"Yes, but you don't mean to say woman is a craft sailing without a
compass, do you? that is, minus a heart?"

"Aye, aye, but it's hard to get in their wake. I never met but one
whole-souled woman in my life, and she has gone--where such as she do
go. Ah, that was a hard time! I was the only one saved of two hundred!"

"How was that, Sampson? come, spin us that yarn."

"Land ho! land ho!" hailed the lookout, and every eye welcomed Manilla,
as they ran in for repairs, after cruising about for months without
taking a drop of oil. Harry was delighted with the prospect before him,
and laying the little curiosity, which would remind him of a sad event
in his voyage, away with his bible, he entered upon the duties before
him with his whole heart, realizing the visions of his earlier days, and
gaining a thorough knowledge of--the life of a sailor boy.

CHAPTER VI.

SOME DAYS ARE BORN OF SORROW.

  "The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
   Leads to the land where sorrows are unknown."

        ANONYMOUS.

  "Through sorrow's night, and danger's path,
     Amid the deepening gloom,
   Ye children of a heavenly king
     Are marching to the tomb."

        H. KIRKE WHITE.

It is a destiny, that every life be, to a greater or less degree,
fraught with that heart-purifying element, which we term sorrow. And who
would have it otherwise? Who would glide passively along the bright
river of smiles, without one taste of that chiefest of disciplines,
sorrow? How grateful should we be to Him who has permitted us to drink
of the same cup with his only Son! for he was a "man of sorrows, and
acquainted with grief." Who is so blind that will not see the kind
designs of our Father, in the disposition of those works of his hands
which he pronounced good. Truly His eye is all-seeing; the overflow of
his tender mercies toward the children of men are unbounded. What cell
of goodness is there within the human heart, of which the breath of
sorrow cannot raise the valve? In a word, what countless numbers of
souls have been stayed in their mad career, have been saved from eternal
destruction, through the chastening rod of the Lord.

It was the morning after the sailing of the Nautilus; the Sea-flower had
arisen with the sun, and calling for old Nep, as was her wont, to
accompany her on her morning's walk, she tripped lightly along, humming
a farewell to the last altheas, as they nodded their shrivelled heads,
in view of their departure; but their words of adieu were made brief, by
a voice as of one in distress; and coming near, it proved to be the
musical Vingo, trilling the wild melodies of his old Virginia days.

"Good morning, Vingo; you must have been up a long time to have been
away down to the shore; you must take it easier, and get more sleep.
Even old Nep dislikes to leave his warm kennel this cool morning, for he
did not come at my call, and so I would not disturb him."

"Ah, missy, de old fellow am getting along in years as well as de rest
ob us; and if it wasn't for de gray hairs, dat will keep at de top ob de
heap, in spite ob ebery ting, I should feel dat old age am coming wid
long strides, when I see dat de wee bud ob de Sea-flower am almost in
bloom. But see here, missy," said he, holding up a fresh cod which he
had taken, "I'm tinking dat make massa Harry's eyes sparkle."

It was the hour for family prayers.

"Had you not better go to Harry's room, dear, and see if he is ill this
morning? he is unusually late," said Mrs. Grosvenor.

"I tink de fragrance ob de salt water about dat cod fetch him soon,"
remarked Vingo, endeavoring to smooth his face into a proper state
of sobriety.

Gently the Sea-flower tapped at her brother's door, but receiving no
answer, she ventured in; the room was in the same order in which she had
left it the day before, for she took great pleasure in arranging the
flowers upon his dressing table, and no one could impart such a
coziness, arranging everything to his mind, as could Sea-flower. The bed
had not been disturbed, and the book from which she had read to him, was
lying thereon, opened at those beautiful verses of "The Iris of the
Deep," which he loved so well to hear her read. What could it mean?
Calmly her breath came and went; but for that she appeared like a
beautiful piece of statuary, her eyes turned upward, as if seeking for
strength to meet the vague sense of desolation which was creeping into
her heart. Upon the table were two notes, one addressed to her mother,
the other to herself, in his hand-writing. With nerveless hand she broke
the seal; no emotion was visible, save the delicate glow upon her cheek,
which came and went, and the playing of the muscles about her compressed
lips, as she read the following:

"My Sister--When you read this, I shall be far away, sailing over those
glorious billows which you and I love so well! You will miss me, for I
know you love your erring brother, with all his faults; and even you,
who can realize what were my heart's desires, will hardly forgive the
step which brings such deep grief upon our mother; yet you will think of
me with kindness, for I know it cannot be otherwise. There is no spot
within your heart of love which is not occupied. Could I have left home
with a mother's blessing, I should be happier; but she will pray for her
boy; the gentle breeze which fills our sail will bear her "God bless
you" to the ear of him who will think of the dear ones at home, until he
shall once more fill his place in that dearest of family circles, and
thank God, my mother has such an one as you to lean upon. Farewell, dear
Sea-flower, until we meet again. BROTHER HARRY."

He had gone! Could it be possible? How could she speak those cruel words
to her mother? Yet it must be. With steady step she entered the
drawing-room; the mother looked upon her child. That which she would
speak failed to give utterance. Instinctively soul sympathized
with soul.

"Mother, we will breathe our morning supplication to Him who ordereth
all things;" and the Sea-flower, at that family altar, prayed that
strength might be given them, that they might be prepared for whatever
was to be their portion, and her prayer was heard. Arising, Mrs.
Grosvenor sank into a chair; with an agitated voice she spoke,--

"My child, some dreadful thing has occurred! My son,--tell me, has he
gone? for the same mysterious power which bade me impress upon his mind
last night, the value of the instructions, which, I pray God, I have not
been unfaithful in setting before him, tells me I shall not see my boy
again for many long days! Speak, my child, is it not so?"

"You have spoken too truly, mother; may you be able to bear up under
this affliction;" and she put the note into her mother's hand.

"My eyes fail me, my child! If it is not asking of you too much, tell me
what were his last words; they will fall more gently on my heart;" and
the tones of the Sea-flower were of comfort as she read:--

"My dear Mother--In the ship Nautilus, which will sail from this port on
the 20th of October, I have shipped for a Cape Horn voyage. You will
hardly believe what you read; nevertheless, it is true. I was very much
disappointed that I could not go with father, and thought I would wait
patiently until his return; but gaining permission from my present
captain to accompany him, I could not resist the temptation. I know I
shall do very wrong in going away without your consent, but forgive me,
if you can, mother; 't is the only act in which I have ever given you
sorrow, or by which I ever shall. You shall hear from me as often as I
can get an opportunity of sending home, and it will not be a great while
before I shall be with you again. I shall not forget my prayers night
and morning; and I know you will not cease to pray for your son, though
he should fall to the lowest depths of degradation. Tell father, when
you write him, that I have disobeyed his word; but ask him if he cannot
forgive me. It is possible that I may meet with him upon the ocean, and
may we both be spared to make you happy, my dear mother. Farewell, from
your affectionate son."

"I do forgive you, my son, in this cruel step which you have taken;
indeed, but how could he do thus? Oh, how could he!" and Mrs. Grosvenor,
overcome with her emotion, sank back in her chair.

"De good Lord be praised, missy! but I not tink it eber come to dis. To
be sure, massa Wendall often tell me, eber since _dat day_, dat I
getting too full ob laugh, dat one extreme follow anoder; but I never
tink young massa take hesef clean off!" and, wiping the whites of his
eyes, he went out to hunt up old Nep to share his grief; but he soon
returned, and locking the door after him, proceeded to fasten every
window in the house.

Sea-flower, who was bathing her mother's temples, observing what the
negro was about, was at a loss to account for his movements; but knowing
he disliked to be questioned upon points touching his judgment, she
humored him by letting him have his own way, till finally, he peered
into his mistress's face, and in a voice scarcely above a whisper, said,
"Dar, missy, de rest ob us am safe! he no cotch any more dis time!"

"What is it? Vingo, what has happened?"

"Ah, little missy, if I wasn't clean gone tuck! 'pears like I never
shall get ober it."

"What is the matter, Vingo?"

"Well, missy Sea-flower, I tinks it am de ebil one dat has taken dem
away, after all; for dat dog neber go 'way peaceably wid anyting short
ob de debil; he got too much de spirit ob his massa to be afeard ob
anyting dat belong on dis earth!"

"Is Neptune gone, too, Vingo?"

"Yes, missy, dar not eben a shadow left ob him; and, [the negro had a
remarkable imagination], 'pears like I see de print ob a cloben tread in
de soft ground, by his door; and among de hay de old fellow hab lef some
ob his plunder trough mistake."

Sea-flower hastened to the dog's kennel, and there indeed was a small
parcel, folded neatly in white paper, but no trace of the dog was to be
seen; opening the package, there was a small locket, containing the
likeness of her mother and herself, which had been left upon the parlor
table, but how it came in the dog's kennel was a mystery.

"Oh, our faithful Neptune! how much we shall miss him! It must be that
he has gone with his master; but perhaps it is all for the best."

"I tinks eberyting should be ob de best for you, missy; 'pears like if
my poor old Phillis could get used to de tribilations, like you do, it
help to make de road easier; but I specks she neber learn how."

"O, Vingo, it makes my heart bleed to think that your people have no
opportunities for learning that they may cast their burdens on the Lord.
I cannot imagine anything more dreadful than the ignorance in which the
slaves are kept."

"Yes, missy, I neber remembers much about it till I leabes old Berginny;
some how or oder, I finds out dat old massa's people hab a God, but I
neber 'spect he know anyting 'bout poor black man."

Days and months passed on, as the lonely days of sorrow do come, and go,
and come again; but as the lengthened shades of the summer solstice had
again become less, another cloud had arisen in the firmament of mingled
joys and sorrows, threatening to encompass even the bright rays of hope
within its gloom.

Mrs. Grosvenor had written her husband of the conduct of their truant
son, as Harry had wished, and had in reply received his full forgiveness
for the boy. Captain Grosvenor had written that he much regretted not
having taken Harry along with him, "for," said he, "a second thought
would have convinced me that the boy had too much of the spirit of his
father to remain contentedly on shore; he has but followed in my
footsteps, for I never shall forget the night I stole away from my
father's house, when I was but ten years old, and went to sea. Yes, tell
my boy that I forgive him, yet it annoys me very much that you and our
dear Natalie are left alone, my wife; but at the rate we have been
doing, it will not be long before we shall be homeward bound."

Nearly a twelvemonth had passed since this letter had been received; not
a word had been heard of the Tantalizer for a long time; several ships
had returned which had left since she had sailed, but they had brought
no tidings of her. Over a year had passed since she was last reported,
and her owners began to look doubtful in regard to her fate; and there
were rumors that the Tantalizer was counted among the missing vessels,
yet no one dared to breathe the thought to the still hoping family,
while there was the least possibility that she might be heard from
again; and who would wish to be the first to pronounce that gentle wife
a widow? Darker and still deeper grew the overshadowing cloud, and the
hopes of the trusting ones less. Mrs. Grosvenor would sit for whole days
brooding over her sorrows, clinging to the last ray of hope, with
almost the insanity of hope; but the last spark finally went out, never
again to be rekindled. The untiring wheels of time still went their
rounds, and everything moved on, as if there were no hearts beating in
discordant measure to the joyous song of nature. Sympathizing friends
pitied the afflicted, and the world read,--"A noble ship lost at sea!
all on board supposed to have perished! Ship and cargo valued at thirty
thousand dollars; no insurance!" and they exclaim,--"ah, the sailor's
life is indeed hard!" But they dwell upon the latter clause of the
paragraph with as much real pity, the words fall upon their ear,
conveying as much of real sadness to their minds, as that many families
have been called to mourn the loss of one of their members. The
Sea-flower could hardly become reconciled to the thought that she would