r
wants to be."

After this rebuff, the surly Rogers was left to smoke his short black
pipe in peace, and in a few minutes the little boat came alongside the
huge Leviathan of the deep. A rope was thrown from her deck, which
having been secured, the following brief dialogue ensued:

"The _City of Edinburgh_, for Edinburgh?"

"The _Queen of Scotland_, for Aberdeen, Captain Fraser."

This announcement was followed by a look of blank astonishment and
disappointment from the party in the boat.

"Where is the _City of Edinburgh_?"

"We left her in the river. You had better take a passage with us to
Aberdeen," said Captain Fraser, advancing to the side of his vessel.

"Two hundred miles out of my way," said Lyndsay. "Fall off." The tow
rope was cast loose, and the floating castle resumed her thundering
course, leaving the party in the boat greatly disconcerted by the
misadventure.

"The _City of Edinburgh_ must soon be here?" said Lyndsay, addressing
himself once more to Sam Rogers. That sociable individual continued
smoking his short pipe without deigning to notice the speaker. "Had we
not better lay-to, and wait for her coming up?"

"No; we should be run down by her. Do you see yon?" pointing with his
pipe, to a grey cloud that was rolling over the surface of the sea
towards them; "that's the sea rake--in three minutes: in less than three
minutes, you will not be able to discern objects three yards beyond your
nose."

"Pleasant news," said Mr. Hawke, with rather a dolorous sigh. "This may
turn out as bad as our last scrape. Lyndsay, you are an unlucky fellow.
If you go on as you have begun, it will be some months before you reach
Canada."

In less time than the old man had prognosticated, the dense fog had
rapidly spread itself over the water, blotting the sun from the heavens,
and enfolding every object in its chilly embrace. The shores faded from
their view, the very ocean on which they floated, was heard, but no
longer seen. Nature seemed to have lost her identity, covered with that
white sheet, which enveloped her like a shroud. Flora strove in vain to
pierce the thick misty curtain by which they were surrounded. Her whole
world was now confined to the little boat and the persons it contained:
the rest of creation had become a blank. The fog wetted like rain, and
was more penetrating, and the constant efforts she made to see through
it, made her eyes and head ache, and cast a damp upon her spirits which
a