frail tarpaulin, she was not at all fitted to
face the terrible storms that sometimes sweep the southern seas. Each
man, as he gazed at her, felt that his chance of ultimate escape was
very small indeed. Still, the men had now been so long contemplating
the voyage and preparing for it, and they had become so accustomed to
risk their lives upon the sea, that they set out upon this voyage at
last in cheerful spirits, and even jested about the anticipated dangers
and trials which they knew full well awaited them.

It was a lovely morning, that on which the wrecked crew of the whaler
bade adieu to "Fairyland," as the islet had been named by Ailie--a name
that was highly, though laughingly, approved of by the men. The ocean
and sky presented that mysterious co-mingling of their gorgeous elements
that irresistibly call forth the wonder and admiration of even the most
unromantic and matter-of-fact men. It was one of Ailie's peculiarly
beloved skies. You could not, without much consideration, have decided
as to where was the exact line at which the glassy ocean met the clear
sky, and it was almost impossible to tell, when gazing at the horizon,
which were the real clouds and which the reflections.

The bright blue vault above was laden with clouds of the most gorgeous
description, in which all the shades of pearly-grey and yellow were
mingled and contrasted. They rose up, pile upon pile, in stupendous
majesty, like the very battlements of heaven, while their images, clear
and distinct almost as themselves, rolled down and down into the watery
depths, until the islet--the only well-defined and solid object in the
scene--appeared to float in their midst. The rising sun shot throughout
the vast immensity of space, and its warm rays were interrupted, and
broken, and caught, and absorbed, and reflected in so many magical ways,
that it was impossible to trace any of the outlines for more than a few
seconds, ere the eye was lost in the confusion of bright lights and deep
shadows that were mingled and mellowed together by the softer lights and
shades of every degree of depth and tint into splendid harmony.

In the midst of this scene Captain Dunning stood, with Ailie by his
side, and surrounded by his men, on the shores of the little island.
Everything was now in readiness to set sail. The boat was laden, and in
the water, and the men stood ready to leap in and push off.

"My lads," said the captain, earnestly, "we're about t