ocious interest.
It was the love of Mammon, stirring within him the lingering remains of
covetousness. He thought of his property, while Mary thought of those
whose lives had been endangered, if not lost, by the unhappy adventure.
The latter understood the look, however, so far as to answer its inquiry,
in her usual gentle, feminine voice.

"I am sorry to say, sir, that no news has been heard from Captain Daggett,
or any of his people," was the sad reply to this silent interrogatory. "No
one on the island has heard a word from the Vineyard vessel since the day
before she sailed from Rio. There is the same uneasiness felt among
Captain Daggett's friends, as we feel for poor Roswell. They think,
however, that the two vessels have kept together, and believe that the
same fate has befallen both."

"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed the deacon, as sharply as wasting lungs would
allow--"Heaven forbid! If Gar'ner his let that Daggett keep in his company
an hour longer than was necessary, he has deserved to meet with shipwreck,
though the loss always falls heaviest on the owners."

"Surely, uncle, it is more cheering to think that the two schooners are
together in those dangerous seas, than to imagine one, alone, left to meet
the risks, without a companion!"

"You talk idly, gal--as women always talk. If you know'd all, you wouldn't
think of such a thing."

"So you have said often, uncle, and I fear there is some mystery preying
all this time on your, spirits. Why not relieve your mind, by telling your
troubles to me? I am your child in affection, if not by birth."

"You're a good gal, Mary," answered the deacon, a good deal softened by
the plaintive tones of one of the gentlest voices that ever fell on human
ear, "an excellent creatur' at the bottom--but of course you know nothing
of the sealing business, and next to nothing about taking care of
property."

"I hope you do not think me wasteful, sir? That is a character I should
not like to possess."

"No, not wasteful; on the contrary, curful (so the deacon pronounced the
word) and considerate enough, as to _keeping_, but awfully indifferent as
to _getting_. Had I been as indifferent as you are yourself, your futur'
days would not be so comfortable and happy as they are now likely to be,
a'ter my departure--if depart I _must_."

"My future life happy and comfortable!" _thought_ Mary; then she struggled
to be satisfied with her lot, and contented with the decrees of
Providen