very good-humoured tones, "have all sail made on this penny whistle; stretch out every rag she's got; make every thread tell. Set stun'sails both sides alow and aloft. See to it!"

For a few moments the yacht was a scene of apparent confusion, but really of the most perfect order. Commands were given and repeated, and instantly obeyed. Additional sails rose on either side of those before standing, as if by magic. Men moved quickly in all directions, yet each obedient to his own officer, and each engaged in obeying a particular order, as if but one had been given, and he the only one to execute it. The masts were soon white with broad fields of canvass, stretching far out on either side of the vessel; and the increased ripple around the bow, and the gurgle heard about the rudder, indicated that she felt the new impulse, and was moving with increased velocity.

The captain, who had, in the mean while, walked the deck with a moody pace, looked up as the bustle made in increasing sail ceased.

"She is under all she will bear, sir!" said the lieutenant, approaching him.

"What way has she?"

"Five knots."

"'Tis her canvass presses her along then," said the captain, looking aloft with a gratified eye, "for there is scarce wind to float a feather."

"She moves wing and wing, like a duck," said the officer, in reply; "for I've sailed in her many a cruise before you took command of her, sir, and know what she'll do; but, with the wind a point or two forward the beam, a spar would work better and gain more headway than she will."

"Pray Heaven the wind soon chop round ahead, then," said the captain, with energy; "I would not lose the chance of a brush with this three-masted rigger for a post-captaincy. Keep good lookout astern, and watch everything like a change in the wind: report if you see anything moving between the sea and sky, he added, going to the companion-way.

"And what if I can change the wind for you by bringing her to, a few points, by degrees," archly suggested the lieutenant, in a low voice, as he was about to descend into the cabin.

"'Tis a temptation, i'faith, Howel," he said, laughingly; "but wouldst have me keep a false log? No, no. Not Dick Kenard, for a score of pirates."

The captain disappeared as he spoke, and the lieutenant, with his speaking-trumpet beneath his arm, and his right hand thrust into the breast of his jacket, mechanically paced the deck fore and aft the starboard guns in the waste, leaving the whole of the quarter-deck to the earl and his niece.

Twilight was stealing over the sea, and the headland of Cape Clear looked, through the hazy distance, like a cloud resting on the water. With her head reclining on her uncle's shoulder, Grace watched in silence the stars, as one by one they came out of their blue homes and took their places in the sky; and her fancy amused itself, as she saw them light up one after another, with the idea that the invisible angels, which are said to keep watch over the earth, were hanging out lamps to give light to it in the absence of the sun. The musical murmur of the parted water, as it rippled past the vessel's sides; the occasional dash of a wave against the stern; the gentle, rocking motion of the yacht, as it coursed along, threw over her spirit a pensive sadness. Twilight is sacred to thought! Its dreamy influence begets reflection. There is something in its deep silence that elevates and spiritualizes. To religion and its mysteries, the mind then insensibly turns, and always for its good. If men think at all, they will think at this magic hour. If they are religious ever, they will be devotionally so then. There is no man, however humble or however lost, who does not at times feel its sanctifying influence. It is the sabbath of the day, and its time to the thoughts of the heart of man is a holy time.

The mind of Grace experienced the sacred influences of the hour. For a while she gave herself up to her thoughts, that would take to themselves wings and fly whither they would. At length night came on in all her starry glory, and the meditations of the maiden grew less ideal; and returning from contemplating, as young and ardent minds delight to do, creation and its wonders, religion and its mysteries, the wearied wing of her imagination rested among those whom she had left at Castle Cor. She thought of Kate and of Lester—grieved at their quarrel, and sympathized with her unhappy cousin. She then thought of Mark; of his intrepidity on the cliff; of his pride, and of his low station. She caught herself wishing, she could hardly tell why or wherefore, that he had been noble; and began devising some way of drawing him from his degrading occupation of a fisherman, and elevating him to a worthier station—when all at once she remembered, what she had forgotten, that this was in part accomplished—that he was on board the same vessel with herself! She started at the recollection, and looked around confused. But the darkness concealed her changing colour from her uncle, who nevertheless spoke, as she so suddenly lifted her head from his shoulder.

"What, dreaming, my Gracy? It is growing late, and time for you to retire. We will take some refreshment below, and then I will resign you to your maid—for this little head should have a softer pillow than an old uncle's arm."

As the earl spoke, he took the hand of his niece, and descended with her to the cabin, where, after partaking of their evening meal, they parted, one to go to the deck and join the captain, the other to retire to the state cabin. This was furnished with costly hangings, couches of down, gilded sofas, thick carpets, tables inlaid with pearl, a toilet stand and laver of ebony and marble, and pier glasses extending from the ceiling to the floor; while nothing that could contribute to the comfort or administer to the luxury of the occupant was wanting.

When the earl returned to the deck it was nearly ten o'clock, and the moon was high in the east. He wrapped himself in his cloak, and walked for an hour thoughtfully, occasionally casting his eyes to windward, or stopping to examine the compass. The captain, in the mean while, leaned over the quarter, fixing his eyes steadily towards the direction from which his vessel had come; at one moment putting his night-glass to his eye; at another giving an order to the lieutenant of the watch, and now and then addressing a brief sentence of caution or reprimand to the helmsman.

Seven bells had struck, and it was near midnight, when, after taking a long and scrutinizing survey of the horizon, he crossed the deck towards the earl, and said, with impatient disappointment,

"We are safe enough, my lord. There will be no one to trouble us to-night."

"I am glad it is so, Kenard. You may have been mistaken in his character."

"No. But he probably has discovered what we are, and has thought better of it. Ha! did not the main-topgallant-sail flap then?" he asked, looking aloft.

"The wind is lulling, I believe," said the earl.

"It is, by Heaven!" exclaimed the seaman. "What headway do we make? Heave the log."

"She logs full four, but makes not above three and a half knots way," repeated the officer of the deck.

"We have a strong current setting to the south and east in our favour by the dip of this ripple, which will make it four again. Ten minutes ago we were running eight! There is a chance of exchanging compliments with our neighbour, my lord; yet I have done my best to keep out of his way."

"But, if we have no wind, he must be in the same situation."

"He will have it first, and bring it along with him. There was a wind-bag hanging over the sun that will soon be piping a merry note. There flaps the fore-topsail against the mast! The wind is leaving us. She does not now move two