but that Katharine would accompany her
father. He had never told Seymour of the plans which had involved the
destinies of Katharine and himself, and something had restrained him
from mentioning either his hopes or his affection for her, though time
and absence had but intensified his passion, until it was the consuming
idea of his soul.

This reserve was matched by a similar reticence on the part of Seymour,
who had said nothing of the note he had received, and had not
communicated the news of his own successful suit to his unsuspecting
rival. Seymour had a much clearer apprehension of the situation than
Talbot, and, intrenched in Katharine's confession, could endure it
without disquiet, magnanimously saying nothing which could disturb his
less favored rival. The situation, however, was clearly an impossible
one, and that there would be a sudden break in the friendship, when
Talbot found out the true state of affairs, he did not doubt. This was
a grief to him, for he really liked the young man, and would gladly
have spared his friend any pain, if it were possible; however, since
there was only one Kate in the world, and she was his, he saw no way
out of the difficulty, and could only allow Talbot to drift along
blindly in his fool's paradise, until his eyes were opened. Both the
young men were favorites with Captain Jones, and he treated them in a
very different manner from that he usually assumed to his subordinates,
for Jones was a man to be respected and feared rather than loved.

Late in the afternoon, the ship being under all plain sail, on the port
tack, heading due west, the voice of the lookout on the mainroyal-yard
floated down to the deck in that hail which is always thrilling at sea,
and was doubly so in this instance,--

"Sail ho!"

Motioning to the officer of the deck, Jones himself replied in his
powerful voice,--

"Where away?"

"Broad off the lee-beam, sir."

"Can you make her out?"

"No, sir, not yet."

"Well, keep your eye lifting, my man, and sing out when you do. Mr.
Simpson," he said, turning to the officer of the deck, "let her go off
a couple of points."

"Ay, ay, sir. Up with the helm, quartermaster, round in the
weather-braces, rise tacks and sheets."

The speed of the ship going free was materially increased at once, and
in a few moments the lookout once more hailed the deck,--

"I can make her out now, sir."

"What is it?"

"A ship, sir, ay, and there is another one