d and round the
horizon. The land was no longer in sight, and old ocean roared and
tossed in his unrest, as a strong man raves and tosses in the delirium
of fever.

"The white mice are out this morning, Mrs. Lyndsay," said Bob Motion,
who was at his old post at the helm. "Miss Josey's cradle, I'm thinking,
was well rocked last night. We are now running right afore the gale. The
skipper was out of his reckoning altogether. It's a mercy the ship did
not founder on that cursed shore."

At noon the storm abated, with a fair wind.

"If this lasts, we shall have a glorious run," said Mr. Collins, laying
down his knife and fork at dinner, "and shall most likely get clear of
Anticosti before morning."

They passed this dangerous island during the night.

"I am sorry," said Flora, "that we did not see it."

"You should rather thank God, Mrs. Lyndsay; but don't be too sure--we
may see too much of it yet."

The Captain's words were prophetic. Three days of stormy weather and
contrary winds found the vessel tossing between Charleroi Bay and the
dismal coast, whose dreary aspect sailors view with such fear. The
setting sun shone upon the white rocky cliffs of Cape Gaspe, and the
fantastic rocks which surround that romantic bay; and his rising beams
gleamed upon the sandy beach and desolate shores of Anticosti, with its
grey forests of storm-stunted trees of horrid growth, that looked the
fitting abode of the savage bear and wolf.

In Chaleur Bay they caught some fresh fish, which was indeed a
seasonable mercy, as it had become painfully evident that their stock of
provisions could not hold out many days longer.

On the 25th of August they took in a pilot off Cape Rosier, who brought
some fresh provisions in his boat, and the fearful intelligence, that
the cholera was raging at Quebec, and spreading into the Upper Province.

This piece of information threw a damp upon the spirits of all. They had
escaped the dangers of the sea, only to encounter the more terrible
peril of the pestilence. "What must be, must--we all know that," said
Boreas. "No man that knows me would call me a coward; but I'll confess
the truth--I'm afraid of this infernal cholera; I'll be d---- if I
aren't."

Every one had some prophetic fear or foreboding on the subject. Persons
who had not trembled during the storm, turned pale and shuddered when
the pestilence was named.

Geordie Muckleroy alone seemed perfectly indifferent about it. "That
man's s