n after the scene which we have described of the
sailing ship and her commander.

"Within the month I hope, my child. I have already directed the
solicitor to close up all his business relative to your father's estate,
and the next homeward-bound ship may bear us in it."

"I shall feel sad to leave our peaceful home here, mother, for, save my
dear father's death, has been very pleasant, very happy to be here."

"There are many dear associations that must ever hang about its memory,
my dear; but after all, we shall be returning to our native land, and
that is a sweet thought. It is some twelve years since we lost sight of
English soil."

"I remember it most vividly," said the child, recalling the past; "ay,
as though it were but yesterday!"

That night, as she lay sleeping in her daintily-furnished apartment,
into which the soft night-air was admitted through sweet geranium and
mignonette, which bloomed and shed their perfume with rare sweetness,
she dreamed of her native land, of him who had that day left her so
disappointed, of her childhood, and all its happy memories, and of much
that we will not refer to lest we anticipate our story.

CHAPTER VI.

THE WRECK.

ABOUT a fortnight subsequent to the period of the last chapter, Mrs.
Huntington and her daughter, with a single attendant found themselves
embarked on board the Bengal, a large, well-found Indiaman, bound for
Liverpool. The ship belonged to the East India Company, was a good
carrier, but calculated more for freight than speed. She was a new ship
and strong as iron and wood could be put together, and the widow and her
child found their quarters on board of an exceedingly comfortable
nature. They were the only passengers on board, but the vessel had a
heavy freight list, and as she moved out from her anchorage to lay her
course to sea, her draft of water was very deep.

The Bengal fortunately encountered none but the most favorable winds and
tides for many a long and to those on board somewhat monotonous days,
and the sun rose out of the sea clear and bright, and sunk again beneath
its surface in gorgeous splendor with every diurnal rotation, until at
length the ship touched at the Cape of Good Hope, where, having taken
fresh water and provisions on board, she cleared direct for Liverpool.
Every hour now seemed more especially to draw the ship nearer her port
of destination, and a fresh spirit was infused among passengers and
crew, in cabin and