A few days later the deacon was made a very happy man by the receipt of a letter from Fish & Grinnell, notifying him of the arrival of his oil, accompanied by a most gratifying account of the state of the market, and asking for instructions.  The oil was disposed of, and the deacon pocketed his portion of the proceeds as soon as possible; eagerly looking for a new and profitable investment for the avails.  Great was the reputation Roswell Gardiner made by this capture of the two spermaceti whales, and by sending the proceeds to so good a market.  In commerce, as in war, success is all in all, though in both success is nearly as often the result of unforeseen circumstances as of calculations and wisdom.  It is true there are a sort of trade, and a sort of war, in which prudence and care may effect a great deal, yet are both often outstripped by the random exertions and adventures of those who calculate almost as wildly as they act.  Audacity, as the French term it, is a great quality in war, and often achieves more than the most calculated wisdom—­nay, it becomes wisdom in that sort of struggle; and we are far from being sure that audacity is not sometimes as potent in trade.  At all events, it was esteemed a bold, as well as a prosperous exploit, for a little schooner like the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond, to take a hundred-barrel whale, and to send home its “ile,” as the deacon always pronounced the word, in common with most others in old Suffolk.

Long and anxious months, with one exception, succeeded this bright spot of sunshine in Mary Pratt’s solicitude in behalf of the absent Roswell.  She knew there was but little chance of hearing from him again until he returned north.  The exception was a short letter that the deacon received, dated two weeks later than that written from Rio, in latitude forty-one, or just as far south of the equator as Oyster Pond was north of it, and nearly fourteen hundred miles to the southward of Rio.  This letter was written in great haste, to send home by a Pacific trader who was accidentally met nearer the coast than was usual for such vessels to be.  It stated that all was well; that the schooner of Daggett was still in company; and that Gardiner intended to get “shut” of her, as the deacon expressed it, on the very first occasion.

After the receipt of this letter, the third written by Roswell Gardiner since he left home, a long and blank interval of silence succeeded.  Then it was that months passed away in an anxious and dark uncertainty.  Spring followed winter, summer succeeded to spring, and autumn came to reap the fruits of all the previous seasons, without bringing any further tidings from the adventurers.  Then winter made its second appearance since the Sea Lion had sailed, filling the minds of the mariners’ friends with sad forebodings as they listened to the meanings of the gales that accompanied that bleak and stormy quarter of the year.  Deep and painful were the anticipations of the deacon, in whom failing health, and a near approach to the “last of earth,” came to increase the gloom.  As for Mary, youth and health sustained her; but her very soul was heavy, as she pondered on so long and uncertain an absence.