cabin, chilling their hearts with apathy and gloom.

Nature had suddenly started from her mesmeric trance, and was wide awake
once more; and all the human hearts imprisoned in the _Anne_ responded
to her electric touch. The very ship seemed endowed with living power,
and bounded over the long rolling surges as if she felt the impetus of
the fresh wind which filled her canvas in all her creaking timbers.

"This is glorious, Captain: shall we soon clear the banks?"

"We left them behind two hours ago."

"Shall we see land before night?"

He shook his head. "It's not in the breeks of the _Anne_. She is old,
and slow in her paces. With the same wind, we shall be fortunate if we
do so to-morrow."

Flora went to bed, hoping and praying for the fair wind to continue, and
fill their sails on the morrow.

The morrow came, and filled its appointed place in the long annals of
time; and still the ship held on her course, with the same blue skies
above, and the same blue desert of ocean, limitless and vast, around.

The nearer they approached the desired haven, the more contradictory and
morose Mr. Lootie became. The hope which inspired all with a flutter of
joyful anticipation, seemed to awaken no feelings of gratitude and
thankfulness in him. He grumbled and snarled at every one and every
thing.

At noon, a vessel hove in sight. It was the first that had crossed their
long and lonely path; and as she drew near, every one rushed to the deck
to look at the stranger. She passed so near, that there was but a narrow
path of waves between them; and her crew, in red flannel shirts and
worsted caps, seemed as much swayed by the excitement of the moment, as
the half-starved passengers on board the _Anne_.

The Captain bellowed through his trumpet to enquire her name, port, and
destination, as she glided by, and was answered, in the same trumpet
tones--

"The barque _Mary_ of London, Captain Jones; freight, timber; ten days
from Quebec--all well!"

In a few minutes she was gone, soon to become a mere speck on the
horizon.

Flora turned with a sigh, from following her track along the
deep. She was going home, and the very thought of that distant,
never-to-be-forgotten home, flooded her heart with sad memories.

"Don't look so grave, Mrs. Lyndsay," said old Boreas. "In ten days we
may reach Quebec. I hear Sam ringing the bell for dinner. I thought I
would give you a little treat, and have ordered the cook to prepare for
us