to
some wilderness, where "transport and security entwine"--the anticipated
scene of a delicious honeymoon. Elliot, while in search of a vessel, had
fallen in with a young man whom he had known as a medical student at
Edinburgh, and who was now about to go as surgeon of a Greenland vessel,
in order to earn, during the summer, the necessary sum for defraying his
college expenses. He accompanied Elliot to his inn, and heard, during
the way, the story of his misfortunes. It is unnecessary to describe
Frank's surprise and grief at the capture of his friend, Rhimeson. At
first, he determined instantly to return and relieve him from durance.
But, influenced by the entreaties contained in Rhimeson's note, and by
the arguments of the young Northumbrian, he at length changed this
resolution, and determined on accepting the situation of surgeon in the
whaling vessel for which his present companion had been about to depart.
Frank presented the Northumbrian with a sum more than equal to the
expected profits of the voyage, and received his thanks in tones wherein
the natural roughness of his accent was increased to a fearful degree by
the strength of his emotion. All things being arranged, Frank shook his
acquaintance by the hand, and remarked that it would be well for him to
keep out of the way for a while. So bidding the man of harsh aspirations
adieu, he made his way to the coach, and, in twenty-four hours, was
embarked in the _Labrador_, with a stiff westerly breeze ready to carry
him away from all that he loved and dreaded.

Let the reader imagine that six months have passed over--and let him
imagine, also, if he can, the anguish which the mother and sister of
Elliot suffered on account of his mysterious disappearance. It was now
September. The broad harvest moon was shining full upon the bosom of
Teviot, and glittering upon the rustling leaves of the woods that
overhang her banks, and pouring a flood of more golden light upon the
already golden grain that waved--ripe for the sickle--along the margin
of the lovely stream, the stars, few in number, but most brilliant, had
taken their places in the sky; the owl was whooping from the ivied
tower; the corn-craik was calling drowsily; now and then the distant
baying of a watch-dog startled the silence, otherwise undisturbed, save
by the plaintive murmuring of the stream, which, as it flowed past,
uttered such querulous sounds, that, as some one has happily expressed
it, "one was al