l
their "fatherland and king," would join with those who had risen against
theirs. As yet the crisis was not come, and in New York British power
was still triumphant.

Among the many festivities given by the officers, naval and military,
then in the country, was a splendid ball on board a British frigate then
in the harbour. To this scene of magic beauty and delight I accompanied
Ella--'twas but a few days after that unhappy first of May; but the
buoyant spirits of youth are soon rekindled, and Ella yet, I thought,
might love me. The scene was so new, and withal so splendid in its
details, that it comes before me now fresh and undimmed. The night was
one of summer's softest, earliest beauty: the moonlight slept upon the
still waters, and the tall masts, with all their graceful tracery of
spar and line, were bathed with rich radiance, mingled with the hundred
lights of coloured lamps, suspended from festoons of flowers; low
couches stood along the bulwarks of the noble ship, and the meteor flag
of England, which waved so oft amid the battle and the breeze, now
wafted its ruby cross o'er fair forms gliding through the dance, to the
rich strains of merry music--'twas an hour that sent glad feeling to the
heart. The gay dresses and noble bearing of the military officers, all
glistening in scarlet and gold, contrasted well with the white robes and
delicate beauty of the fair girls by their sides. But they had their
rivals in the gallant givers of the fete. Many a lady's heart was lost
that night. "What is it always makes a sailor so dangerous a rival?"
Ella used to say, when rallied on her partiality for a "bluejacket,"
that she loved it because it was the colour of so many things dear to
her: the sky was blue, the waves of the deep mysterious sea were blue,
and the wreaths of that fairy flower, which bears the magic name
forget-me-not, were of the same charmed hue. Some such reason, I
suppose, it is that makes every maiden love a sailor.

While we stood gazing on the scene, enchanted and delighted, one came
near and joined our group. Nobility of mind and birth was written on his
brow in beauty's brightest traits. He seemed hardly nineteen, but, young
as he was, many a wild breeze had parted the wavy ringlets of his hair,
and the salt spray of the ocean raised a deeper hue on his cheek. His
light and graceful figure was clad in the becoming costume of his rank,
and on his richly braided bosom rested three half blown roses.