ired to the mazes of poussette and right and left. This was
all plain sailing; but the case was now quite different. Here was a
strange sail, who had not even shown her number, taken aback in stays,
and on her beam-ends in a squall.

Seymour knew nothing about fainting. Sometimes a man had fits on board
a ship (although invariably discharged when it was known); but the only
remedy, in a man-of-war, in such cases, was to lay the patient down
between the guns, and let him come-to at his own leisure. It was
impossible to act so in this case; and Seymour, as he bent over the
beautiful pale countenance of Emily, felt that he never could be tired
of holding her in his arms. However, as it was necessary that something
should be done, he laid her down on the sofa, and seizing the bell-rope,
pulled it violently for assistance. The wire had been previously
slackened, and the force which Seymour used brought down the rope
without ringing the bell. There was but one in the room: and, not
choosing to leave Emily, he was again compelled to rely on his own
resources. What was good for her? Water? There was none in the room,
except what he had been painting with, and that was desperately
discoloured with the Indian ink. Nevertheless, he snatched up his large
brush which he used for washing-in his skies, and commenced painting her
face and temples with the discoloured water; but without producing the
desired effect of re-animation.

What next?--Oh, salts and burnt feathers; he had read of them in a
novel. Salts he had none--burnt feathers were to be procured. There
were two live birds, called cardinals, belonging to Mrs McElvina, in a
cage near the window, and there was also a stuffed green parrot in a
glass case. Seymour showed his usual presence of mind in his decision.
The tails of the live birds would in all probability grow again; that of
the stuffed parrot never could. He put his hand into the cage, and
seizing the fluttering proprietors, pulled out both their long tails,
and having secured the door of the cage, thrust the ends of the feathers
into the fire, and applied them, frizzing and spluttering, to the
nostrils of Emily. But they were replaced in the fire again and again,
until they would emit no more smoke, and Emily still continued in a
state of insensibility. There was no help for it--the parrot, which he
knew Mrs McElvina was partial to, must be sacrificed. A blow with the
poker demolished the glass, a