h so soon departs in the long winter season of the North, might fall
full upon it. The room was of an octagon shape, with dark oak
wainscoting and ceiling; the chairs were of a suitable character, mostly
with high upright backs, rudely carved, as were some book-shelves, which
occupied two of the sides, while a massive table, supported by sea
monsters, or at all events by creatures of fish-like form, stood in the
centre; another table of similar character stood against the side of the
room with writing materials on it, and there was a sofa of antique form,
and two large chests of some dark wood, with brass clasps and plates on
the lids and sides, so tarnished however by the sea air, as scarcely to
be discerned as brass. A second high narrow window, with a lattice,
faced towards the west and north, so that persons standing at it could,
by leaning forward, look completely up the voe. Thus, from this turret
chamber, a view could be obtained on every side, except on that looking
inland, or rather over the island.

On one of the eight sides there was, however, a small door in the
panelling, which opened on a spiral staircase leading to the very summit
of the tower, where, as has been said, a gun was placed, and whence a
complete view was obtained over every portion of the island, extending
far away over the sea beyond, to the Out Skerries, a rocky group so
called; and the distant shores of the large island of Yell. As the roof
could only be reached by passing through the chamber below, it was
completely private to the fair occupant as long as she chose to close
the ingress to her own room.

Seldom has a more beautiful picture been portrayed to the mind's eye of
the most imaginative of painters, than that which Hilda Wardhill
presented as she sat at the window of her turret chamber, either leaning
over the volume which occupied her attention, or gazing out on the calm
ocean, her thoughts evidently still engaged in the subject of her
studies.

At length she rose, and was about to close the window, when her eye fell
on a vast towering mass of white, gliding slowly from the northward down
Eastling Sound. She looked more than once, mistrusting her senses, and
inclined to believe that it was some phantom of the deep, described in
wild romances, often her study, which she beheld, till another glance
assured her, as the object drew nearer that it was a large ship far
larger than had ever been known during her recollection to a