prospect it presented to her sight! Far as
the eye could reach the sea was covered with foam. Not a sail was
visible, and a dark leaden sky was pouring down torrents of rain.

"What a morning!" she muttered to herself, as she stole quietly back to
bed. "It will be impossible to put to sea to-day."

The sleep which had shunned her pillow during the greater part of the
night, gently stole over her, and "wrapped her senses in forgetfulness;"
and old Kitson, two hours later, twice threw a pebble against the
window, before she awoke.

"_Leaftenant_ Lyndsay--_Leaftenant_ Lyndsay!" shouted the Captain, in a
voice like a speaking-trumpet--"wind and tide wait for no man. Up, up,
and be doing."

"Ay, ay," responded Lyndsay, rubbing his eyes, and going to the window.

"See what a storm the night has been brewing for you," continued old
Kitson. "It blows great guns, and there's rain enough to float Noah's
ark. Waters is here, and wants to see you. He says that his small craft
won't live in a sea like this. You'll have to put off your voyage till
the steamer takes her next trip."

"That's bad," said Lyndsay, hurrying on his clothes, and joining the old
sailor on the lawn. "Is there any chance, Kitson, of this holding up?"

"None. This is paying us off for three weeks fine weather, and may last
for several days--at all events, till night. The steamer will be
rattling down in an hour, with the wind and tide in her favour. Were you
once on board, _Leaftenant_, you might snap your fingers at this capful
of wind."

"We must make up our minds to lose our places," said Lyndsay, in a tone
of deep vexation.

"You have taken your places then?"

"Yes; and made a deposit of half the passage money."

"Humph! Now, _Leaftenant_ Lyndsay, that's a thing I never do. I always
take my chance. I would rather lose my place in a boat, or a coach, than
lose my money. But young fellows like you never learn wisdom. Experience
is all thrown away upon you. But as we can't remedy the evil now, we
had better step in and get a morsel of breakfast. This raw air makes one
hungry. The wind may lull by that time." Then gazing at the sky with one
of his keen orbs, while he shaded with his hand the other, he
continued--"It rains too hard for it to blow long at this rate; and the
season of the year is all in your favour. Go in--go in, and get
something to eat, and we will settle over your wife's good coffee what
is best to be done."

Lyndsay thought with