e and the ship to bring him with all his
meanness upon the head she loved, a huge disappointment, once for all!

CHAPTER XI.

"Roose the fair day at e'en."
_Scotch Proverb_.

After leaving New York, we no longer hugged the coast. We stood right
off, and to my great delight, I found we were going to put in at Bermuda
for repairs. I never knew, but I always fancy that these were done
cheaper there than at New York. Or it may merely have been because when
we had been at sea two days the wretched _Slut_ leaked so that, though
we were pumping day and night, till we were nearly worn out, we couldn't
keep the wet from the gimcrack cargo.

Fortunately for us the weather was absolutely lovely, and though it was
hot by day, we wore uncommonly little clothing, and "carried our change
of air with us," as Dennis said.

As to the nights, I never can forget the ideal beauty of the last three
before we reached Bermuda. I had had no conception of what starlight can
be and what stars can look like. These hanging lamps of the vast
heavens seemed so strangely different from the stars that "twinkle,
twinkle," as the nursery book has it, through our misty skies at home.
We were, in short, approaching the tropics. Very beautiful were the
strange constellations of the midnight sky, the magic loveliness of the
moonlight, and the phosphorescence of the warm waves, whilst the last
exquisite touch of delight was given by the balmy air. By day the heat
(especially as we had to work so hard in it) made one's enjoyment less
luxurious, but if my love for the sea had known no touch of
disappointment on the cold swell of the northern Atlantic, it would have
needed very dire discomfort to spoil the pleasure of living on these
ever-varying blue waters, flecked with white foam and foam-like birds,
through the clearness of which we now and then got a peep of a
peacock-green dolphin, changing his colour with every leap and gambol,
as if he were himself a wave.

Of living things (and, for that matter, of ships) we saw far less than I
expected, though it was more than a fortnight from the time of our
leaving Sandy Hook to the night we lay off to the east of the
Bermudas--the warm lights from human habitations twinkling among the
islands, and the cold light of the moon making the surf and coral reefs
doubly clear against the dark waters--waiting, but scarcely wishing, for
the day.

As I ha