usic of sacbut, fife, and drum, with discharge of all ordnance,
great and small, with cheering of young and old from cliff and strand
and quay, and with many a tearful prayer and blessing upon that gallant
bark, and all brave hearts on board.

And Mrs. Leigh who had kissed her sons for the last time after the
Communion at the altar-steps (and what more fit place for a mother's
kiss?) went to the rocky knoll outside the churchyard wall, and watched
the ship glide out between the yellow denes, and lessen slowly hour by
hour into the boundless West, till her hull sank below the dim horizon,
and her white sails faded away into the gray Atlantic mist, perhaps
forever.

And Mrs. Leigh gathered her cloak about her, and bowed her head and
worshipped; and then went home to loneliness and prayer.

CHAPTER XVII

HOW THEY CAME TO BARBADOS, AND FOUND NO MEN THEREIN

"The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out;
At one stride comes the dark."

COLERIDGE.

Land! land! land! Yes, there it was, far away to the south and west,
beside the setting sun, a long blue bar between the crimson sea and
golden sky. Land at last, with fresh streams, and cooling fruits, and
free room for cramped and scurvy-weakened limbs. And there, too, might
be gold, and gems, and all the wealth of Ind. Who knew? Why not? The old
world of fact and prose lay thousands of miles behind them, and before
them and around them was the realm of wonder and fable, of boundless
hope and possibility. Sick men crawled up out of their stifling
hammocks; strong men fell on their knees and gave God thanks; and all
eyes and hands were stretched eagerly toward the far blue cloud, fading
as the sun sank down, yet rising higher and broader as the ship rushed
on before the rich trade-wind, which whispered lovingly round brow
and sail, "I am the faithful friend of those who dare!" "Blow freshly,
freshlier yet, thou good trade-wind, of whom it is written that He makes
the winds His angels, ministering breaths to the heirs of His salvation.
Blow freshlier yet, and save, if not me from death, yet her from worse
than death. Blow on, and land me at her feet, to call the lost lamb
home, and die!"

So murmured Frank to himself, as with straining eyes he gazed upon that
first outlier of the New World which held his all. His cheeks were thin
and wasted, and the hectic spot on each glowed crimson in the crimson
light of the setting sun. A few