e solid old skipper,
her round, rosy, dimpled fingers clasped a miniature locket fastened by
a massive linked gold chain around her neck. Ah! she was a sight to see
and love!

"Tell me, _mon cher Capitaine_ Blunt, how many hours or minutes will it
be before I shall behold my husband?"

The good-natured skipper laughed pleasantly at the eagerness of his
beautiful passenger, and opening his hands wide, he gave vent to a long,
low whistle, and replied,

"When the wind comes from good San Antonio, my Lady Bird--when the
sea-breeze makes--then the old brig will reel off the knots! But see!
just now not a breath to keep a tropic bird's wings out. There, look at
that fellow!"

High up in the heavens, two or three men-of-war birds, with wide-spread
pointed wings, and their swallow tails cut as sharp as knife-blades,
were heading seaward, and every little while falling in a rapid sidelong
plunge, as if in a vacuum, and then again giving an almost imperceptible
dash with their pinions as they recovered the lost space and continued
on in their silent flight.

"That's a sure sign, Madame Rosalie," continued the skipper, "that the
trade wind has blown itself out, and the chances are that this hot sun
will drink up the flying clouds, and leave us in a dead calm till the
moon quarters to-night. What say you, Mr. Binks? am I right?"

"Never know'd you to be wrong, sir," said the mate, with an honest
intonation of voice, as he tried to stare the sun out of countenance in
following the captain's glance.

"_Helas!_" said the young mother, with a little sigh of sadness, as she
stood peering over the lee rail to the green hills and slopes of the
island, standing boldly out now with the lofty blue mountains cutting
the sky ten thousand feet in mid-heaven; "so near, too; and he is
thinking and waiting for us!"

"Come," exclaimed the skipper, heartily, "the youngster wants his
breakfast!"

[Illustration: "WHEN THE WIND COMES FROM GOOD SAN ANTONIO, MY LADY
BIRD--"]

CHAPTER III.

HIGH NOON.

"No life is in the air, but in the waters
Are creatures huge, and terrible, and strong;
The swordfish and the shark pursue their slaughters;
War universal reigns these depths along.
The lovely purple of the noon's bestowing
Has vanished from the waters, where it flung
A royal color, such as gems are throwing
Tyrian or regal garniture among."

High noon! Still the stanch old brig bowed and