I am cured of all wish for a lover a pirate. I could not say- -
'Aye, let the wild winds whistle o'er the deck,
So that those arms cling closer round my neck;
The only murmur of this lip should be,
No sigh for safety, but a prayer for thee.'
My only prayer would be, do let me land.
"The castle is a fine building, shaped like an H, of which we occupy the middle. A huge flight of steps leads to the hall, on either side of which are a suite of rooms. The one in which I am writing would be pretty in England. It is of a pale blue, and hung with some beautiful prints, for which Mr. Maclean has a passion. On three sides the batteries are washed by the sea, the fourth is a striking land view. The hills are covered with what is called bush, but we should think wood. It is like living in the 'Arabian Nights,' looking out upon palm and cocoa-nut trees. I have seen very little, for Mr. Maclean has been exceedingly ill, though now fast recovering. My talk must be of 'familiar matters to-day'—all my housekeeping troubles, for which, heaven knows, I have neither talent nor experience. However, I am beginning to get on. I know how much yam is to be given out, and how many plantains are to be eaten; and I know how much flour makes such a sized loaf. The bread here is delicious, though they use palm-wine by way of yeast. In short, if any one would steal the plate, which must be cleaned, and the mahogany tables, which must be polished, I should be very comfortable. The solitude is absolute. I get up at seven o'clock, and, till I see Mr. Maclean at our seven o'clock dinner, I rarely see a living creature, except the servants. You may suppose
