. While
arranging the focus of the instrument, an object first met his eye that
caused his heart almost to leap into his mouth. Land was looming up, in
the western board, so distinctly as to admit of no cavil about its
presence. It was an island, mountainous, and Mark supposed it must be
fully a hundred miles distant. Still it was land, and strange land, and
might prove to be the abode of human beings. The glass told him very
little more than his eye, though he could discern a mountainous form
through it, and saw that it was an island of no great size. Beyond this
mountain, again, the young man fancied that he could detect the haze of
more land; but, if he did, it was too low, too distant, and too
indistinct, to be certain of it. It is not easy to give a clear idea of
the tumult of feeling with which Mark Woolston beheld these unknown
regions, though it might best be compared with the emotions of the
astronomer who discovers a new planet. It would scarce exceed the truth
to say that he regarded that dim, blue mountain, which arose in the
midst of a watery waste, with as much of admiration, mysterious awe and
gratification united, as Herschel may have been supposed to feel when he
established the character of Uranus. It was fully an hour before our
hermit could turn his eyes in any other direction.

And when our young mariner did look aside, it was more with the
intention of relieving eyes that had grown dim with gazing, than of not
returning to the same objects again, as soon as restored to their power.
It was while walking to and fro on the peak, with this intent, that a
new subject of interest caused him almost to leap into the air, and to
shout aloud. He saw a sail! For the first time since Betts disappeared
from his anxious looks, his eyes now surely rested on a vessel. What was
more, it was quite near the island he was on, and seemed to be beating
up to get under its lee. It appeared but a speck on the blue waves of
the ocean, seen from that height, it is true; but Mark was too well
practised in his craft to be mistaken. It was a vessel, under more or
less canvas, how much he could not then tell, or even see--but it was
most decidedly a vessel. Mark's limbs trembled so much that he was
compelled to throw himself upon the earth to find the support he wanted.
There he lay several minutes, mentally returning thanks to God for this
unexpected favour; and when his strength revived, these signs of
gratitude were renewed