that
rules the world spoke a word, and the Messenger of Fate rushed forth to
do its bidding. On board the great ship was music and laughter and the
sweet voices of singing women; but above it hung a pall of doom. Not the
most timid heart dreamed of danger. What danger could there be aboard of
that grand ship, which sped across the waves with the lightness and
confidence of the swallow? There was naught to fear. A prosperous voyage
was drawing to its end, and mothers put their babes to sleep with as sure
a heart as though they were on solid English ground. Oh! surely when his
overflowing load of sorrows and dire miseries was meted out to man, some
gentle Spirit pleaded for him--that he should not have foresight added
to the tale, that he should not see the falling knife or hear the water
lapping that one day shall entomb him? Or, was it kept back because man,
having knowledge, would be man without reason?--for terror would make him
mad, and he would end his fears by hurrying their fulfilment! At least,
we are blind to the future, and let us be thankful for it.

Presently Lady Holmhurst got up from her chair, and said that she was
going to bed, but that, first of all, she must kiss Dick, her little boy,
who slept with his nurse in another cabin. Augusta rose and went with
her, and they both kissed the sleeping child, a bonny boy of five, and
then they kissed each other and separated for the night.

Some hours afterwards Augusta woke up, feeling very restless. For an
hour or more she lay thinking of Mr. Tombey and many other things, and
listening to the swift "lap, lap," of the water as it slipped past the
vessel's sides, and the occasional tramp of the watch as they set fresh
sails. At last her feeling of unrest got too much for her, and she rose
and partially, very partially, dressed herself--for in the gloom she
could only find her flannel vest and petticoat--twisted her long hair
in a coil round her head, put on a hat and a thick ulster that hung
upon the door--for they were running into chilly latitudes--and slipped
out on deck.

It was getting towards dawn, but the night was still dark. Looking up,
Augusta could only just make out the outlines of the huge bellying
sails, for the Kangaroo was rushing along before the westerly wind under
a full head of steam, and with every inch of her canvas set to ease the
screw. There was something very exhilarating about the movement, the
freshness of the night, and the wild, sw