vessel.

Then came the blinding tears, the re-enactment of the last passionate
adieus, and they were once more afloat upon the water.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE FOG.

The human heart is made of elastic stuff; and can scarcely experience on
the same subject an equal intensity of grief. Repetition had softened
the anguish of this second parting; the bitterness of grief was already
past; and the sun of hope was calmly rising above the clouds of sorrow,
which had hung for the last weary days so loweringly above our
emigrants. Mr. Hawke and his son alone accompanied them on this second
expedition. Adam Mansel had had enough of the sea, during their late
adventure, and thought it most prudent to make his adieus on shore.

James Hawke was in high spirits; anticipating with boyish enthusiasm,
the adventures which might fall to his share during a long voyage; and
his sojourn in that distant land, which was to prove to him a very land
of Goshen. Many gay hopes smiled upon him, which, like that bright sunny
day, were doomed to have a gloomy ending, although at the beginning it
promised so fair.

The owner of the boat, a morose old seaman, grumbled out his commands to
the two sailors who managed the craft, in such a dogged, sulky tone,
that it attracted the attention of the elder Hawke, and being naturally
fond of fun, he endeavoured to draw him out. An abrupt monosyllable was
the sole reply he could obtain to any one of his many questions.

Lyndsay was highly amused by his surly humour, and flattered himself
that _he_ might prove more successful than his friend, by startling the
sea-bear into a more lengthy growl.

"Friend," said he carelessly, "I have forgotten your name?"

"Sam Rogers," was the brief reply; uttered in a short grunt.

"Does the boat belong to you?"

"Yes."

"She looks as if she had seen hard service?"

"Yes; both of us are the worse for wear."

The ice once broken, Mr. Hawke chimed in--"Have you a wife, Captain
Rogers?"

"She's in the churchyard," with a decided growl.

"So much the better for Mrs. Rogers," whispered Lyndsay to Flora.

"You had better let the animal alone," said Flora in the same tone:
"'Tis sworn to silence."

"Have you any family, Captain Rogers?" recommenced the incorrigible
Hawke.

"Ay; more than's good."

"Girls, or boys?"

"What's that to you? Too many of both. Why do you call me Captain? You
knows well enough that I'm not a captain; never was a captain, and neve