ain that no colony existed
until after the restoration.

CHAPTER IV.

THE STORM AND SHIPWRECK.

The wind
Increased at night, until it blew a gale;
And though 'twas not much to naval mind,
Some landsmen would have looked a little pale,
For sailors are, in fact, a different kind:
At sunset they began to take in sail.
--BYRON.

Nearly two centuries and a half have made wonderful changes in ocean
travel. The floating palaces of to-day which plough the deep on schedule
time, regardless of storms, contrary winds and adverse tides, were
unknown when John Stevens embarked for England in 1654.

The vessel in which he sailed was one of the best of the time. It was
large, well manned and officered, and few had any fears of risking a
voyage in the stanch craft _Silverwing_; but John Stevens could no more
allay his fears than control the storm.

His wife, who stood weeping on the strand, became a speck in the
distance and then disappeared from his view. The heart of the husband
overflowed with bitterness, and he turned from the taffrail where he had
been standing and walked forward to conceal his emotion.

All about him were gay groups of people, laughing and jesting. They were
mostly men and women who had come from England and were happy now that
they were going home. John's wife seemed to have lost her many faults,
and the image that faded from his gaze was a creature of perfection.
Only the beautiful face, the great dark eyes and the sunny smiles were
remembered.

John went to his stateroom and, falling into his berth, wept. He may be
called weak, but he was not. John had braved too many dangers and
undergone too many hardships to be termed weak. His mind was filled with
his wife and children. The face of his sleeping baby, whose warm, tender
arms had been so often entwined about his neck, lingered in his mind.
When the dinner hour came he was not hungry, so he remained in
his cabin.

The vessel had gained the open sea by nightfall and was bowling along at
a three-knot rate under full spread of canvas and fair wind. He went to
supper, though little inclined to eat, and during the night was awakened
with a load heavier than grindstones on his stomach.

"Surely I will die," he groaned, as each heaving billow seemed to
torture his poor stomach. He rose at dawn and found himself unable to
stand. The sea wa