antarctic circle commences in 23 deg. 30' south, which, deducted from 90
degrees, leave just 66 deg. 30' between the equator and the nearest spot
within the sea you have mentioned. Now, 66 deg. 30' give about 4589 statute
miles more, in a straight line, allowing only 69 to a degree. The two
sums, added together, make 7589 miles, or rather more. But the road is not
straight, by any means, as shipmasters tell me; and I suppose Gar'ner
must have gone, at the very least, 8000 miles to reach his latitude, to
say nothing of a considerable distance of longitude to travel over, to the
southward of Cape Horn."

"It is a terrible distance to have a friend from us!" ejaculated Mary,
though in a low, dejected tone.

"It is a terrible distance for a man to trust his property away from him,
gal; and I do not sleep a-nights for thinking of it, when I remember where
my own schooner may be all this time!"

"Ah, here is Baiting Joe, and with a letter in his hand, uncle, I do
declare!"

It might be a secret hope that impelled Mary, for away she bounded, like a
young fawn, running to meet the old fisherman at the door. No sooner did
her eyes fall on the superscription, than the large package was pressed to
her heart, and she seemed, for an instant, lost in thanksgiving. That no
one might unnecessarily be a witness of what passed between her uncle and
herself, Joe was directed to the kitchen, where a good meal, a glass of
rum and water, and the quarter of a dollar that Mary gave him as she
showed the way, satisfied him with the results of his trouble.

"Here it is, uncle," cried the nearly breathless girl, reentering the
'keeping-room,' and unconsciously holding the letter still pressed to her
heart,--"A letter--a letter from Roswell, in his own precious hand."

A flood of tears gave some relief to feelings that had so long been pent,
and eased a heart that had been compressed nearly to breaking. At any
other time, and at this unequivocal evidence of the hold the young man had
on the affections of his niece, Deacon Pratt would have remonstrated with
her on the folly of refusing to become "Roswell Gar'ner's" wife; but the
sight of the letter drove all other thoughts from his head, concentrating
his whole being in the fate of the schooner.

"Look, and see if it has the Antarctic post-mark on it, Mary," said the
deacon, in a tremulous voice.

This request was not made so much in ignorance as in trepidation. The
deacon very well knew t