here days, months, and years of
contentment, though they have never seen the world beyond the horizon
of St. Helena.

On the 20th of April the _Spray_ was again ready for sea. Before going
on board I took luncheon with the governor and his family at the
castle. Lady Sterndale had sent a large fruit-cake, early in the
morning, from Plantation House, to be taken along on the voyage. It
was a great high-decker, and I ate sparingly of it, as I thought, but
it did not keep as I had hoped it would. I ate the last of it along
with my first cup of coffee at Antigua, West Indies, which, after all,
was quite a record. The one my own sister made me at the little island
in the Bay of Fundy, at the first of the voyage, kept about the same
length of time, namely, forty-two days.

After luncheon a royal mail was made up for Ascension, the island next
on my way. Then Mr. Poole and his daughter paid the _Spray_ a farewell
visit, bringing me a basket of fruit. It was late in the evening
before the anchor was up, and I bore off for the west, loath to leave
my new friends. But fresh winds filled the sloop's sails once more,
and I watched the beacon-light at Plantation House, the governor's
parting signal for the _Spray_, till the island faded in the darkness
astern and became one with the night, and by midnight the light itself
had disappeared below the horizon.

When morning came there was no land in sight, but the day went on the
same as days before, save for one small incident. Governor Sterndale
had given me a bag of coffee in the husk, and Clark, the American, in
an evil moment, had put a goat on board, "to butt the sack and hustle
the coffee-beans out of the pods." He urged that the animal, besides
being useful, would be as companionable as a dog. I soon found that my
sailing-companion, this sort of dog with horns, had to be tied up
entirely. The mistake I made was that I did not chain him to the mast
instead of tying him with grass ropes less securely, and this I
learned to my cost. Except for the first day, before the beast got his
sea-legs on, I had no peace of mind. After that, actuated by a spirit
born, maybe, of his pasturage, this incarnation of evil threatened to
devour everything from flying-jib to stern-davits. He was the worst
pirate I met on the whole voyage. He began depredations by eating my
chart of the West Indies, in the cabin, one day, while I was about my
work for'ard, thinking that the critter was securely tied