The day succeeding that on which the Sea Lion received the remainder of her people, Roswell Gardiner went up to the Harbour, where he met Deacon Pratt, by appointment.  The object was to clear the schooner out, which could be done only at that place.  Mary accompanied her uncle, to transact some of her own little domestic business; and it was then arranged between the parties, that the deacon should make his last visit to his vessel in the return-boat of her master, while Roswell Gardiner should take Mary back to Oyster Pond, in the whale-boat that had brought her and her uncle over.  As Baiting Joe, as usual, had acted as ferryman, it was necessary to get rid of him, the young sailor desiring to be alone with Mary.  This was easily enough effected, by a present of a quarter of a dollar.  The boat having two lugg sails, and the wind being light and steady, at south-west, there was nothing to conflict with Roswell Gardiner’s wishes.

The young sailor left the wharf at Sag Harbour about ten minutes after the deacon had preceded him, on his way to the schooner.  As the wind was so light and so fair, he soon had his sheets in, and the boat gliding along at an easy rate, which permitted him to bestow nearly all his attention on his charming companion.  Roswell Gardiner had sought this occasion, that he might once more open his heart to Mary, and urge his suit for the last time, previously to so long an absence.  This he did in a manly frank way, that was far from being unpleasant to his gentle listener, whose inclinations, for a few minutes, blinded her to the resolutions already made on principle.  So urgent was her suitor, indeed, that she should solemnly plight her faith to him, ere he sailed, that a soft illusion came over the mind of one as affectionate as Mary, and she was half-inclined to believe her previous determination was unjustifiable and obdurate.  But the head of one of her high principles, and clear views of duty, could not long be deceived by her heart, and she regained the self-command which had hitherto sustained her in all her former trials, in connection with this subject.

“Perhaps it would have been better, Roswell,” she said, “had I taken leave of you at the Harbour, and not incurred the risk of the pain that I foresee I shall both give and bear, in our present discourse.  I have concealed nothing from you; possibly I have been more sincere than prudence would sanction.  You know the only obstacle there is to our union; but that appears to increase in strength, the more I ask you to reflect on it—­to try to remove it.”

“What would you have me do, Mary!  Surely, not to play the hypocrite, and profess to believe that which I certainly do not, and which, after all my inquiries, I cannot believe.”

“I am sorry it is so, on every account,” returned Mary, in a low and saddened tone.  “Sorry, that one of so frank, ingenuous a mind, should find it impossible to accept the creed of his fathers, and sorry that it must leave so impassable a chasm between us, for ever.”