his loss. It was sad to hear him in
the still silence of the night out there on the ocean. Poor fellow! he
at length sobbed himself to sleep again.

I woke up, feeling a gentle moving of the raft, and, rising to my feet,
found that the night wind had again come off the shore, though it seemed
rather more to the northward than before. We again hoisted the sail, as
we were not far enough out to be in the track of any traders.

The night at length came to an end; and when the dawn once more broke,
we found the same mist as on the two previous mornings hanging over the
ocean. The young ladies and the boy were still sleeping. We looked
round, but could nowhere discover our companions. That was, however,
what might be expected, as the mist greatly circumscribed our view. I
was standing by Timbo's side.

"I fear dis calm weader not last much longer," he observed to me. "I
hope we soon get aboard ship; for if it come on to blow, den we in bad
way."

"We must pray to Heaven to protect us," I said.

"Yes, Massa Andrew. If Heaben no protect us, den it be bery, bery bad
indeed."

"We must not, however, alarm the young ladies," I observed; "so do not
express your fears, but let us pray that a vessel may be sent to relieve
us. Now, I think we had better prepare breakfast. It will cheer our
spirits."

Soon after this Kate and little Bella appeared from under their awning.

"My father would have had prayers, I think," said Natty to me, in a low
voice.

"He would, I am sure; and so will we," I answered; and before going to
our meal, we offered up a prayer to Heaven for our protection, and Kate
read a chapter from her Bible, which she had not forgotten to bring.

The hours after this sped slowly on. Once more the mist lifted. We
looked round for the raft. It was nowhere to be seen.

"I trust no accident has happened to it," said Stanley. "It would be a
sad fate for the Rowleys and that pretty girl."

I could not suppose this, and yet I could not account for its
disappearance should Kydd have continued steering the course we had
agreed on. On sweeping the horizon with my glass, I made out a small
sail in the distance to the southward. It was, however, so far off,
that, in consequence of the slight mist which still remained, I could
not be certain whether it was the topgallant sail of some ship rising
above the water or the bow-sail of the raft. I gave the glass to Jack
Handspike.

"To my mind it is the