was gone from the sunshine; the light was brilliant and warm and
coloured the atmosphere with a delicate tinge of yellow, though the
luminary was yet high in the heavens. The clouds hung in rolls of
cream-like vapour, making the noblest and most stately prospect of the
sky that could be imagined as they moved slowly over our mastheads in
the direction in which we steered.

I had never been aboard a full-rigged ship before--that is to say, at
sea, and under canvas--and on quitting the companion-way I stood for
some moments heedless of all things in my admiration of the beautiful,
in truth, I may say the royal, picture I witnessed. From deck to truck
rose three spires of canvas, sail upon sail of a milky softness
swelling one above another. The planks of the poop deck were as white
as holystoning could make them, with a glitter as of dried salt
everywhere, and the shadows of the people and of the rigging, swaying
with the heave of the fabric, lay like sketches wrought in pale violet
ink. There was a frequent flash of glass; there were star-like glories
in polished brass; and there was an odd farmyard smell of hay in the
air, with the bleating of sheep forward and a noise of cocks and hens.

"A voyage in such a ship as this, Mrs. Barstow," said I, "should make
the most delightful trip of a person's life."

"It is better than yachting," said Grace softly.

"A voyage soon grows tiresome," remarked Mrs. Barstow. "Miss
Bellassys, I trust you will share my cabin whilst you remain with us."

"You are exceedingly kind," said Grace.

Others of the passengers now approached, and I observed a general
effort of kindness and politeness. The ladies gathered about Grace,
and the gentlemen about me, and the time slipped by, whilst I related
my adventures and listened to their experiences of the weather in the
Channel, and such matters. It was strange, however, to feel that every
hour that passed was widening our distance from home. I never for an
instant regretted my determination to quit the yacht. Yet, even at
this early time of our being aboard the _Carthusian_, I was disquieted
by a sense of mild dismay when I ran my eye over the ship, and marked
her sliding and curtseying steadily forwards to the impulse of her wide
and gleaming pinions, and reflected that this sort of thing might go on
for days, and perhaps for weeks; that we might arrive at the Equator,
perhaps, at the latitude of the Cape of Good Hope without meet