cent little face from the dark full
eyes bending over him, they were not tears of sorrow! Oh, no! It was the
dew of hope and trustfulness falling from the soul of a repentant sinner
relying upon an all-wise Providence.

"Come, my Henri, say your little prayer of the morning, and we will go."
The man had taught the child that little prayer which he himself had
learned at his mother's knee.

Up again to the crag, and down to the shelly margin of the shore; and a
long look the man gave at the ruin of shed and den, as he gently placed
the child on a sand-bag in the stern-sheets of the ark. Then he cast
off the rope which held the vessel to the hated strand, hoisted the
sail, and, as she bubbled along the inlet with the first sigh of the
land wind, he stood at the helm with his bare head lighted up by the
beams of the rising sun, and his lips moved in prayer.

On, noiselessly through the Tiger's Trap sailed the little pinnace till
she bowed her rugged cutwater in the yielding waves, and with her square
lug-sail swelling gently to the freshening breeze, she held her course
to sea. I question much if the stanch brigantine, named the "Centipede,"
which had preceded her through this tiger's gorge, with all the
ruffianly crew that manned her, and their villainous captain on her
quarter-deck, stood half the chance of a prosperous voyage as the tiny
ark, called the "Rosalie," which followed, with her noble, brave
commander, and his weak and boyish mate. Who can tell?

END OF PART I.

PART II.

CHAPTER XXIX.

LAYING UP THE STRANDS.

"Ever drifting, drifting, drifting
On the shifting
Currents of the restless main,
Till in sheltered coves and reaches
Of sandy beaches,
All have found repose again."

It was in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and twenty-two, and in
the broad and commodious harbor of Kingston, a great mercantile haven,
crowded with shipping from all parts of the commercial globe; landlocked
by reef and ridge, with the rocks and heights crowned by frowning
batteries of heavy cannon; while beyond were spread the lower and upper
town, in masses of low two-story buildings, with piazzas, bright green
jalousies, stately palm, tamarind, and cocoa-nut-trees waving above
them. At the mouth of the harbor strait, where stands Fort Augusta, lay
a magnificent double-banked American frigate, with a broad blue
swallow-tailed pennant at her main, standing out s