is last. I shared with Lucy the office of
ministering to the suffering man, closed his eyes at last, and carried
the fainting girl in my arms to another part of the vessel. With kind
words and persuasions I restored her to her senses; and then, as the
full consciousness of her desolation rushed upon her, she sunk at once
into a state of hopeless despondency painful to witness. Captain Grey
had made no provision for his daughter. Well might the poor girl lament
her sad fate! for she was without a relative in the world, penniless,
and approaching a strange shore, which afforded no refuge to the orphan.
We buried her father in the sea; and that sad office fulfilled, I sought
Lucy and endeavoured to arouse her to a sense of her situation and
advise with her concerning the future; for we were now so near our port
that in a few hours we might be compelled to leave the vessel and seek
quarters in the city. She listened to me without replying. I hinted at
the necessity of my leaving her, and begged to know if she had any plans
for the future. She answered me only by a burst of tears. I begged her
not to weep.

"And then, with many sobs, and interrupting herself by frequent
exclamations of vehement sorrow, she threw herself upon my compassion,
and, with child-like artlessness, entreated me not to leave her or, as
she termed it, to desert her. She reminded me that she was alone in the
world; that the moment she stepped foot on shore she should be in a land
of strangers; and, appealing to my mercy, besought me not to leave her
to die alone.

"What could I do? I had nothing on earth to live for. We were both alike
orphaned and desolate. There was but one point of difference. I could
work and protect her; she could do neither for herself. It would be
something for me to live for; and for her, though but a refuge of
poverty and want, it was better than the exposure and suffering that
must otherwise await her. I told her how little I had to offer; that my
heart even was crushed and broken; but that I was ready to labour in her
behalf, to guard her from danger, to pity, and perhaps in time learn to
love her. The unsophisticated girl had never thought of marriage; she
had sought the protection of a friend, not a husband; but I explained to
her that the latter tie only would obviate the necessity of our parting;
and, in the humility of sorrow, she finally accepted my unflattering
offer.

"The only confidant to our sudden engagement, t