and it was as black as night, and the wind was sobbing up mournfully, and there were two steamers in the harbour, waiting. One refused to go out, but the other went, and came to grief. So in the train, as we tore along, I prayed silently that I might have a sign from Heaven, and it should be that one captain should refuse to go. Between my prayers my spirits rose and fell. They rose because my destination was Damascus, the dream of my childhood. I should follow the footsteps of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, Lady Hester Stanhope, the Princess de la Tour d'Auvergne, that trio of famous European women who lived of their own choice a thoroughly Eastern life, and of whom I looked to make a fourth. They fell because I was leaving behind me my home, my family, and many dear ties in England, without any definite hope of return.
We arrived at Dover, and walked to the boat, and could hardly keep on our legs for the wind. When I set out to embark, lo! there were two steamers. The Ostend boat refused to go out; the other one was preparing to start. Now I was most anxious to sail without an hour's delay, but I turned to my brother and said, "Rody, if it is my duty to go I will go, for I do not like to stay on my own responsibility. I am scrupulous about Dick's time and money, and he told me to lose no time." The answer was, "Duty be damned! I won't let you go." Still I hesitated, and as I was between the ways an old sailor stepped out of the darkness as I stood on the quay, and said, "Go home, missie; I haven't seen such a night this forty year." I remembered my dream, and decided.
