o one paid any attention to my
efforts. I stood thus knocking, and calling at the stretch of my voice,
for half an hour, in vain. I returned to my seat, and sat down, overcome
with anger and chagrin. Here was I again placed in a disagreeable
dilemma--evidently going far out to sea, when I ought to be on my way to
Glasgow to my wedding. In the middle of my ravings, I heard first one
shot, then another; but still the ripple of the water and the noise
overhead continued. I was now convinced that I was on board of a
smuggling lugger, and that Cameron was either sole proprietor or
captain. I wished with all my heart that the cutter might overtake and
capture us, that I might be set ashore; but all my wishes were vain--we
still held on our way at a furious rate. As I heard no more shots, I
knew that we had left the cutter at a greater distance. Again,
therefore, I strove to gain a hearing, but in vain: I then strove to
force the hatch, but it resisted all my efforts. I yielded myself at
length to my fate; for the way of the vessel was not in the least
abated.

Towards night, I could find, by the pitching of the vessel and the
increased noise above, that the wind had increased fearfully, and that
it blew a storm. It was with difficulty that I could keep my seat, so
much did she pitch. During the whole night and following day, I was so
sick that I thought I would have died. I had no light; there was no
human creature to give me a mouthful of water; and I could not help
myself even to rise from the floor of the cabin, on which I had sunk.
The agony of my mind was extreme: the day following was to have been
that of my marriage; I was at sea, and knew not where I was. I blamed
myself for my easy, complying temper; my misery increased; and, could I
have stood on my feet, I know not what I might have done in my desperate
situation. Thus I spent a second night; and the day which I had thought
was to shine on my happiness, dawned on my misery.

Towards the afternoon, the motion of the vessel ceased, and I heard the
anchor drop. Immediately the hatch was opened, and Cameron came to me. I
rose in anger, so great that I could not give it utterance. Had I not
been so weak from sickness, I would have flown and strangled him. He
made a thousand apologies for what had happened. I saw that his concern
was real; my anger subsided into melancholy, and my first utterance was
employed to inquire where we were.

"I am sorry to say," replied he,