for ever lost the
great object of my wishes.

The lieutenant of the cutter came down into the cabin, and I was
compelled to hide my emotion. I complained of headache and weakness,
and, collecting the letters, I again lay down in the standing bed-place,
and, drawing the curtains, I was left to my own reflections. But there
was a sad tumult in my mind. I could not keep my ideas upon one subject
for a moment. I was feverish and excited, and at last my head was so
painful that I could think no more. Fortunately exhaustion threw me
again into a sound sleep, and I did not wake till the next morning.
When I did, I had to recollect where I was and what had happened. I
knew that there was something dreadful which had occurred; again it
flashed into my memory. Lord de Versely was dead. I groaned, and fell
back on the pillow.

"Are you very ill, Captain Keene!" said a voice close to me. I opened
the curtains, and perceived that it was Cross, who was standing by my
bedside.

"I am indeed, Cross, very ill; I have very bad news. Lord de Versely is
dead."

"That is bad news, sir," replied Cross--"very bad news, worse than
losing the frigate. But, Captain Keene, we must have our ups and downs
in this world. You have had a long run of good fortune, and you must
not be surprised at a change. It is hard to lose your frigate and your
father at the same time--but you have not lost your life, which is a
great mercy to be thankful for."

I turned away, for my heart was full of bitterness. Cross, perceiving
my mood, left me, and I remained in a state of some indifference, never
rising from the bed-place during the remainder of the time that I was on
board.

On the second day we arrived at Heligoland, and I was requested by the
governor to take up my quarters with him, until an opportunity occurred
for my return to England. My spirits were, however, so much weighed
down that I could not rally. I brooded over my misfortunes, and I
thought that the time was now come when I was to meet a reverse of the
prosperity which I had so long enjoyed.

The sudden death of Lord de Versely, at the age of fifty-six, left me
without a patron, and had destroyed all my hopes centred in him. The
object of my ambition was, I considered, for ever lost to me. There was
now no chance of my being acknowledged as a member of his family. Then
the loss of so fine a frigate, and such a noble ship's company. That I
should be honourably acquitt