tion. It struck four bells; some
casual resemblance in the sound of the old pendulum that marked the hour at
my uncle's house startled me so that I actually knew not where I was. With
lightning speed my once home rose up before me with its happy hearts; the
old familiar faces were there; the gay laugh was in my ears; there sat
my dear old uncle, as with bright eye and mellow voice he looked a very
welcome to his guests; there Boyle; there Considine; there the grim-visaged
portraits that graced the old walls whose black oak wainscot stood in broad
light and shadow, as the blazing turf fire shone upon it; there was my own
place, now vacant; methought my uncle's eye was turned towards it and that
I heard him say, "My poor boy! I wonder where is he now!" My heart swelled,
my chest heaved, the tears coursed slowly down my cheeks, as I asked
myself, "Shall I ever see them more?" Oh, how little, how very little to us
are the accustomed blessings of our life till some change has robbed us of
them, and how dear are they when lost to us! My uncle's dark foreboding
that we should never meet again on earth, came for the first time forcibly
to my mind, and my heart was full to bursting. What could repay me for
the agony of that moment as I thought of him, my first, my best, my only
friend, whom I had deserted? And how gladly would I have resigned my bright
day-dawn of ambition to be once more beside his chair, to hear his voice,
to see his smile, to feel his love for me! A loud laugh from the cabin
roused me from my sad, depressing revery, and at the same instant
Mike's well-known voice informed me that the captain was looking for me
everywhere, as supper was on the table. Little as I felt disposed to join
the party at such a moment, as I knew there was no escaping Power, I
resolved to make the best of matters; so after a few minutes I followed
Mickey down the companion and entered the cabin.

The scene before me was certainly not calculated to perpetuate depressing
thoughts. At the head of a rude old-fashioned table, upon which figured
several black bottles and various ill-looking drinking vessels of every
shape and material, sat Fred Power; on his right was placed the skipper, on
his left the doctor,--the bronzed, merry-looking, weather-beaten features
of the one contrasting ludicrously with the pale, ascetic, acute-looking
expression of the other. Sparks, more than half-drunk, with the mark of a
red-hot cigar upon his nether lip, w