ng at Saint Lucia.

Night came on, and the _Ellen_ floated calmly on the moonlit sea.
Emilie had insisted on Henri going below, afraid of his being exposed to
the night-air: indeed, the trying cough from which he suffered showed
how necessary it was that all care should be taken of him.

Sophie still lingered on deck. I invited her to come to the side and
watch the moonbeams playing on the waters.

"I know what sailors have to go through," she observed, "but yet I fancy
the enjoyments of a night like this must almost recompense them for the
tempest and rough seas they have to endure."

"We get so well accustomed to both one and the other. Though
acknowledging the beauty of the ocean under all its various phases,
whether sleeping as now under the beams of the pale moon, or glowing in
the rays of the ruddy sun, we value them less, I fear, than those who
only occasionally venture on the world of waters," I remarked.

"Oh, but I am sure I could never look with indifference on such a scene
as this," said Sophie, "and should be content to make voyage after
voyage to witness it."

However, I do not feel disposed to say what else we talked about. I was
young, and said what I certainly did not intend to say. I told Sophie
that I loved her, and would never marry any one else. She did not
withdraw her hand, and, whispering that I had made her very happy,
promised that she would be faithful to me, and that she did not suppose
her father and mother would object to me, especially as I was the friend
of her cousin.

The time flew by faster than I supposed, as we thus stood talking; Dick,
who had charge of the deck, keeping at a judicious distance.

Suddenly the light on the water disappeared, a cloud had obscured the
moon; again the light shone forth, and again was shut out; still no wind
filled our sails. I knew, however, that it might come ere long. Sophie
still lingered by my side. Hitherto the ocean had slept in silence.
Suddenly a rushing murmuring sound fell on my ear.

"Hands aloft, and shorten sail!" I shouted. There was not a moment to
be lost.

"Go below, I entreat you," I said, leading Sophie to the
companion-hatch.

"Oh, what is going to happen?" she asked, in an anxious tone.

"A hurricane is, I fear, upon us," I answered, "and you will be safer
below."

She no longer hesitated, and her father, aroused by my voice, happily
came to assist her down.

"Turn the hands up!" I shouted to Dick, who h