she followed him. The pale, chill glimmering of earliest morning was faint in the east, from which the clouds were slowly breaking; there was just light enough to enable her to find her way. At once her eye fell upon Evelyn, speaking to the captain, who stood with folded arms, and a resolute, but desperate air, while he answered with obvious reluctance;—she caught the last few words,—"I know the channel well; and where yonder gleam of red light rests upon the water are rocks, and on those rocks we strike before another quarter of an hour is over!"—and the seaman walked away, as if unwilling to be further questioned. Evelyn felt a slight touch upon his arm—it was Francesca. Again, in silence, they approached the side of the ship, and Evelyn averted his face; he could not bear to look on the beautiful and the devoted—the bride whom he had won but to lose. He shuddered as he pored on the dark and heaving waves, so soon to close over them.
"God of Heaven!" exclaimed he aloud; "And it is for my sake that she is here!"
"Yes, Evelyn!" said Francesca, in a voice of touching sweetness, but calm—not one accent changed. "Yes: and here I am happy. Whatever be the world of which yonder dark sea is the portal, we shall seek it together. It has been
