occur, but the
weather is generally stern and wintry, and the winds are apt to be high
and boisterous. At a place like Oyster Pond, the gales from the ocean are
felt with almost as much power as on board a vessel at sea; and Mary
became keenly sensible of the change from the bland breezes of summer to
the sterner blasts of autumn. As for the deacon, his health was actually
giving way before anxiety, until the result was getting to be a matter of
doubt. Premature old age appeared to have settled on him, and his niece
had privately consulted Dr. Sage on his case. The excellent girl was
grieved to find that the mind of her uncle grew more worldly, his desires
for wealth more grasping, as he was losing his hold on life, and was
approaching nearer to that hour when time is succeeded by eternity. All
this while, however, Deacon Pratt "kept about," as he expressed it
himself, and struggled to look after his interests, as had been his
practice through life. He collected his debts, foreclosed his mortgages
when necessary, drove tight bargains for his wood and other saleable
articles, and neglected nothing that he thought would tend to increase his
gains. Still, his heart was with his schooner; for he had expected much
from that adventure, and the disappointment was in proportion to the
former hopes.

One day, near the close of November, the deacon and his niece were alone
together in the "keeping-room,"--as it was, if it be not still, the custom
among persons of New England origin to call the ordinary
sitting-apartment,--he bolstered up in an easy-chair, on account of
increasing infirmities, and she plying the needle in her customary way.
The chairs of both were so placed that it was easy for either to look out
upon that bay, now of a wintry aspect, where Roswell had last anchored,
previously to sailing.

"What a pleasant sight it would be, uncle," Mary, almost unconsciously to
herself, remarked, as, with tearful eyes, she sat gazing intently on the
water, "could we only awake and find the Sea Lion at anchor, under the
point of Gardiner's Island! I often fancy that such _may_ be--nay,
_must_ be the case yet; but it never comes to pass! I would not tell you
yesterday, for you did not seem to be as well as common, but I have got an
answer, by Baiting Joe, to my letter sent across to the Vineyard."

The deacon started, and half-turned his body towards his niece, on whose
face his own sunken eyes were now fastened with almost fer