con's apprehensions increase, until it was obvious to all around
him that this cause, united to others that were more purely physical,
perhaps, was seriously undermining his health, and menacing his existence.
It is a sad commentary on the greediness for gain, manifested by this
person, that ere the adventure he had undertaken on the strength of
Daggett's reluctant communications was brought to any apparent result, he
himself was nearly in the condition of that diseased seaman, with as
little prospect of being benefited by his secrets as was the man himself
who first communicated their existence. Mary saw all this clearly, and
mourned almost as much over the blindness and worldliness of her uncle as
she did over the now nearly assured fate of him whom she had so profoundly
loved in her heart's core.

Day by day did time roll on, without bringing any tidings of either of
the Sea Lions. The deacon grew weak fast, until he seldom left his room,
and still more rarely the house. It was now that he was induced to make
his will, and this by an agency so singular as to deserve being mentioned.
The Rev. Mr. Whittle broached the subject one day, not with any interested
motive of course, but simply because the "meeting-house" wanted some
material repairs, and there was a debt on the congregation that it might
be a pleasure to one who had long stood in the relation to it that Deacon
Pratt filled, to pay off, when he no longer had any occasion for the money
for himself. It is probable the deacon at length felt the justice of this
remark; for he sent to Riverhead for a lawyer, and made a will that would
have stood even the petulant and envious justice of the present day; a
justice that inclines to divide a man's estate infinitesimally, lest some
heir become a little richer than his neighbours. After all, no small
portion of that which struts about under the aspects of right, and
liberty, and benevolence, is in truth derived from some of the most
sneaking propensities of human nature!

Chapter XXI.

"I, too, have seen thee on thy surging path
When the night-tempest met thee; thou didst dash
Thy white arms high in heaven, as if in wrath,
Threatening the angry sky; thy waves did lash
The labouring vessel, and with deadening crash
Rush madly forth to scourge its groaning sides;
Onward thy billows came, to meet and clash
In a wild warfare, till the lifted tides
Mingled their yesty tops, where the