ctly well as he advanced,
About ten o'clock he ran alongside of the ship, where he found
everything, as he had left it. Lighting the fire, he put on food
sufficient to last him for another cruise, and then went up into the
cross-trees in order to take a better look than he had yet obtained, of
the state of things to the southward.

By this time the vast, murky cloud that had so long overhung the new
outlet of the volcano, was dispersed. It was succeeded by one of
ordinary size, in which the thread of smoke that arose from the crater,
terminated. Of course the surrounding atmosphere was clear, and nothing
but distance obstructed the view. The Peak was indeed a sublime sight,
issuing, as it did, from the ocean without any relief. Mark now began to
think he had miscalculated its height, and that it might be _two_
thousand feet, instead of one, above the water. There it was, in all its
glory, blue and misty, but ragged and noble. The crater was clearly many
miles beyond it, the young man being satisfied, after this look, that he
had not yet seen its summit. He also increased his distance from
Vulcan's Peak, as he named the mountain, to ten leagues, at least. After
sitting in the cross-trees for fully an hour, gazing at this height with
as much pleasure as the connoisseur ever studied picture, or statue, the
young man determined to attempt a voyage to that place, in the Bridget.
To him, such an expedition had the charm of the novelty and change which
a journey from country to town could bring to the wearied worldling, who
sighed for the enjoyment of his old haunts, after a season passed in the
ennui of his country-house. It is true, great novelties had been
presented to our solitary youth, by the great changes wrought
immediately in his neighbourhood, and they had now kept him for a week
in a condition of high excitement; but nothing they presented could
equal the interest he felt in that distant mountain, which had arisen so
suddenly in a horizon that he had been accustomed to see bare of any
object but clouds, for near eighteen months.

That afternoon Mark made all his preparations for a voyage that he felt
might be one of great moment to him. All the symptoms of convulsions in
the earth, however, had ceased; even the rumbling sounds which he had
heard, or imagined, in the stillness of the night, being no longer
audible. From that source, therefore, he had no great apprehensions of
danger; though there was a sort of dread