a bloody
fool, to let a ship come right under our stern, and sail across the
bay, and not know nothing about it."

Langley, whose regards for the supper-table had drawn his attention
from the arrival of a ship which had been expected by us for more than
a week, and by whom we had anticipated the receipt of the packet the
skipper now held in his hands, Langley, I say, blushed, but said
nothing, and turned toward the captain, who, with trembling hands, was
cutting the twine which bound the precious bundle together.

Now our last letters from Boston had been written more than a year
before, had been read at Calcutta, since then we had sailed fifteen
thousand miles from Calcutta to Trieste, and from Trieste to Valetta,
and here we had been pulling at our anchor for three weeks, waiting
orders from my father by the ship which had just arrived; it is not
wonderful, therefore, that the group which surrounded Capt. Smith were
very pale, eager, anxious-looking men. How much we were to learn in
ten minutes time; what bitter tidings might be in store for us in that
little packet.

At last it is open, and newspapers and letters in rich profusion meet
our gaze; with a quick sleight the captain distributes them, sends a
half dozen to their owners in the forecastle by the steward, and then
ensues a silence broken only by the snapping of seals, and the
rattling of paper. Suddenly Mr. Stewart uttered an exclamation of
surprise, and looking up from my letter, I noticed the quick exchange
of significant glances between the captain and mate.

"You've found it out, then," said the skipper.

The mate nodded in reply, and gathering up his letters, retired
precipitately to his state-room.

At this juncture, Mr. Brewster, who had just finished the perusal of a
very square, stiff-looking epistle, gave vent to a prolonged whistle.

"Beats thunder, I swear!" said he, "if the old woman haint got spliced
again--and she's every month of fifty-six years old."

"That's nothing," cried Langley, "only think, father has left the
Atlas Bank, and is now Mr. Byrnes' book-keeper; and they talk of
shutting up the Tremont theatre, and Bob here says that Fanny Ellsler
is--"

"Avast there!" interrupted the skipper, "clap a stopper over all that,
and stand by to hear where we are bound to-morrow, or next day. Have
any of you found out yet?"

"No, sir," cried Langley and I in a breath, "Home, I hope."

"Not so soon," replied Captain Smith, "as soon as