, rubbing his hands.

"Good morning, all hands!" cried he. "How are you, Frank?"

"Oh! I'm not quite so well this morning," I replied, telling a
bouncer.

"Well, sir, I've got some news that'll do you as much good as the
whole stock in trade of an apothecary taken at one dose. Let's see,
to-day is Wednesday, and Friday evening, if good weather for our
little plans to work, we shall sail for Boston."

"For Boston!" cried everybody.

"Yes, for Boston! You see, Stowe, Mr. Byrne has heard how dull
freights are here, and I have just got a letter from him by Gidding's,
of the Duxbury, just arrived, in which he says--or I'll read that
part--hum--let's see--oh--'if you have not already engaged a freight,
you will immediately sail for Boston. I have an excellent opportunity
to charter the Gentile for a China voyage; and I suppose you had as
lief go to India again as to Russia.' Bless me if I hadn't! So, my
dear fellow, if any of those higgling shippers apply to you, tell 'em
to go to the devil with their ha'penny freights. Come, ride down
street with me; Gidding's has some letters for you. Good morning, Miss
Ellen! Morning, Frank! get well mighty fast, for we must use you a
little, you know; and see Langley, and tell him to go aboard
immediately after dinner."

"Ay, ay, sir. Come, Ellen, let's walk into the garden and find William
and Mary."

We were very soon in the garden, sauntering along a little alley
shaded by orange trees.

"It seems to me," said Ellen, half pouting, "that you are mightily
pleased about sailing next Friday, instead of staying in Matanzas a
week longer."

"Why, yes," I replied, "I must say that I am glad to go home, after an
absence of eighteen months."

"I wish I was going to dear old Boston," added Ellen, sighing.

"You are to go this fall, you know."

"Maybe so; but then, Frank, you will not be there, will you?"

"Why, no," I replied, "not if I go with the ship to India; but what
difference will that make?"

Ellen made no answer, and I began to feel rather queer, and
marvelously inclined to make love. I had always liked Ellen very much,
and lately better than ever, but, being a novice in such matters, I
was in doubt whether my predilection was really _bona fide_ love or
not; it didn't seem like the love I had read about in novels; and yet
I felt very miserable at the idea of Ellen's loving anybody else. I
was in a desperate quandary.

"Well," said Ellen, after the lapse of a quarter