The universal Father came not to him with open arms, as to welcome a returned prodigal, but frowned with the severity of a Judge about to pronounce sentence.  Whithersoever the unhappy man turned, he saw no ray of light to gild the darkness, and he himself sometimes feared lest reason should desert her throne.  But his friends felt no apprehensions of the kind.  In their presence, though grave, he was always reasonable and on his guard—­for he shrunk with the sensitiveness of a delicate mind from exposing its wounds—­nor with the exception of the minister, and now Holden, was there one who suspected his condition, and they probably did not realize it fully.  These remarks may serve to abate, if not to remove entirely the reader’s surprise, that one with the education, and in the position of Armstrong, should have sought counsel from Holden.  But it may be, that the condition of mind to which Armstrong was approaching—­similar in some respects to that of the Solitary—­established a sort of relation or elective affinity between them, operating like the influence of the magnet, to attract one to the other.  We have seen how fond Holden was of visiting the house of Mr. Armstrong.  Could it be that this mysterious influence, all unconsciously to himself, led his steps thither, and that afar off he dimly espied the talisman that should establish a full community between them?  Or was not this community already established?  How else account for the visit of Armstrong, the strange conversation, the confessions, concluded by an act, tender, and perhaps graceful, but only such as was to be expected from a deranged man?

Josiah Sill, true to his promise, arrived while the two men were still talking, heedless of the passage of time.  Mr. Armstrong stepped on board, and the boat resumed her course.  The wind was drawing down the river, remaining nearly in the same point from which it had blown in the morning, and they were obliged in consequence to pursue a zig-zag course, tackling from one shore to the other.  It blew fresh, and the little vessel, gunwale down, with the water sometimes pouring over the lee side, flew like a bird.  They had run two-thirds of the distance, nor was the sun yet set, when the wind, which, till then, had blown pretty steadily, began to intermit and come in flaws or puffs, now driving the small craft with great rapidity, and now urging her gently on.  At an instant, when she was about to tack, having hardly head-way sufficient to prevent missing stays, a sudden and violent puff, from a gorge in the hills, struck the sail.  Had it come at any other moment, the catastrophe that followed could not have happened; but the boat lying almost motionless, received all the force of the wind, and instantly upset.  Mr. Armstrong, unable to swim, and encumbered by his clothes, sank, but was caught by the strong arm of Sill, and pulled upon the keel.  In a state of great discomfort, though of safety, there both remained for some time, waiting for assistance.