I could perceive that Lucy’s colour heightened, and that she looked exceedingly gratified, while this little scene was in the course of being acted, though I was unable to comprehend the precise feeling that was predominant in her honest and truthful heart.  Did that increased colour proceed from pleasure at the handsome manner in which Drewett acquitted himself of one of the most embarrassing of all our duties—­the admission of a deep obligation? or was it in any manner connected with her interest in me?  I could not ask, and of course did not learn.  This scene, however, terminated our intercourse with the Drewetts, for the moment; the boat pulling away immediately after.

Chapter II.

        “——­Misplaced in life,
  I know not what I could have been, but feel
  I am not what I should be—­let it end.”

  Sardanapalus.

Glad enough was I to find the quiet and domestic character of my vessel restored.  Lucy had vanished as soon as it was proper; but, agreeably to her request, I got the sloop’s head down-stream, and began our return-passage, without even thinking of putting a foot on the then unknown land of Albany.  Marble was too much accustomed to submit without inquiry to the movements of the vessel he was in, to raise any objections; and the Wallingford, her boat in tow, was soon turning down with the tide, aided by a light westerly wind, on her homeward course.  This change kept all on deck so busy, that it was some little time ere I saw Lucy again.  When we did meet, however, I found her sad, and full of apprehension.  Grace had evidently been deeply hurt by Rupert’s deportment.  The effect on her frame was such, that it was desirable to let her be as little disturbed as possible.  Lucy hoped she might fall asleep; for, like an infant, her exhausted physical powers sought relief in this resource, almost as often as the state of her mind would permit.  Her existence, although I did not then know it, was like that of the flame which flickers in the air, and which is endangered by the slightest increase of the current to which the lamp may be exposed.

We succeeded in getting across the Overslaugh without touching, and had got down among the islands below Coejiman’s,[1] when we were met by the new flood.  The wind dying away to a calm, we were compelled to select a berth, and anchor.  As soon as we were snug, I sought an interview with Lucy; but the dear girl sent me word by Chloe that Grace was dozing, and that she could not see me just at that moment, as her presence in the cabin was necessary in order to maintain silence.  On receiving this message, I ordered the boat hauled up alongside; Marble, myself and Neb got in; when the black sculled us ashore—­Chloe grinning at the latter’s dexterity, as with one hand, and a mere play of the wrist, he caused the water to foam under the bows of our little bark.

  [Footnote 1:  Queemans, as pronounced.  This is a Dutch, not an Indian
  name, and belongs to a respectable New York family.]