ddy hues
which the sky cast downward. But it was not this scene, magnificent
though it was, which attracted the thoughts of Windham as he stood on
the quarter-deck. His face was turned in that direction; but it was
with an abstracted gaze which took in nothing of the glories of
visible nature. That deep-seated melancholy of his, which was always
visible in his face and manner, was never more visible than now. He
stood by the taffrail in a dejected attitude and with a dejected
face--brooding over his own secret cares, finding nothing in this but
fresh anxieties, and yet unable to turn his thoughts to any thing
else. The steamer sped through the waters, the rumble of her
machinery was in the air, the early hour made the solitude more
complete. This man, whoever he was, did not look as though he were
going to England on any joyous errand, but rather like one who was
going home to the performance of some mournful duty which was never
absent from his thoughts.

Standing thus with his eyes wandering abstractedly over the water, he
became aware of an object upon its surface, which attracted his
attention and roused him from his meditations. It struck him as very
singular. It was at some considerable distance off, and the steamer
was rapidly passing it. It was not yet sufficiently light to
distinguish it well, but he took the ship's glass and looked
carefully at it. He could now distinguish it more plainly. It was a
schooner with its sails down, which by its general position seemed to
be drifting. It was very low in the water, as though it were either
very heavily laden or else water-logged. But there was one thing
there which drew all his thoughts. By the foremast, as he looked, he
saw a figure standing, which was distinctly waving something as if to
attract the attention of the passing steamer. The figure looked like
a woman. A longer glance convinced him that it was so in very deed,
and that this lonely figure was some woman in distress. It seemed to
appeal to himself and to himself alone, with that mute yet eloquent
signal, and those despairing gestures. A strange pang shot through
his heart--a pang sharp and unaccountable--something more than that
which might be caused by any common scene of misery; it was a pang of
deep pity and profound sympathy with this lonely sufferer, from whom
the steamer's course was turned away, and whom the steersman had not
regarded. He only had seen the sight, and the woman seemed to call to