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Page 14
"No;" was the reply of Mr. Cameron. "I fear we must be separated, but
only I trust for a time. This boat is not sufficiently large to hold
more than the lady passengers and the sailors who are to manage it. We
are to embark, as soon as you are safely off, in another, but as both
will steer for the same shore, and keep near each other as much as
possible, I trust, by the mercy of Providence, we shall meet again on
=terra firma=.
"Yes," responded the minister, who had been for a moment silent, and his
clear voice sounded like the spirit of peace above the roaring flames
and raging billows, "we are steering, I trust, for the same shore, and
should we never meet again on earth, may it be our happy lot to greet
each other in the haven of eternal rest, haven to take the shipwrecked
in."
Agnes's heart was for a moment too full to speak, but controlling
herself, she said to Mr. Cameron in a hurried whisper, "If anything
should happen to me, and you again behold my friends, tell them, oh,
tell them, that my last thoughts were for them; tell them not to lament
for me, for I shall be at rest, but, oh, I charge, I implore them to
meet me in heaven!"
A burst of tears closed the sentence; she could no longer restrain her
feelings.
"We must leave you now, my dear child," said Mr. Cameron, after
promising compliance with her request. "May heaven bless and help you."
"And may He who holds the winds and the waves in the hollow of his hand,
preserve you, and all, through the hours of this terrible night," was
the solemn ejaculation of Mr. Dunseer, as pressing for the last time her
hand, the final order was given, the boat pushed out from the side of
the burning vessel, and she was left in the midst of strangers;
strangers personally, yet linked together by the sympathy arising from
mutual danger.
CHAPTER VII.
"Letters from home at last," said Arthur Bernard, as he entered the
private salon of an hotel, located in a pretty town in the south of
France.
"I had begun to think our friends had quite forgotten us," he continued,
addressing his sister, who, seated in a recess formed by a large
bow-window, had been anxiously watching for his return.
"You have not opened any of them yet," she said, as she came eagerly
forward to receive her share.
"No;" was the reply. "I knew how anxiously you were waiting, and
hastened that we might read them together."
"Always thoughtful, dear brother, of my comfort, you quite spoil me,"
said Ella, with an affectionate smile, but in a tone, whose subdued
sound, proved a striking contrast to her former vivacity.
For the next few moments silence reigned in the apartment, for each were
busily engaged in perusing their respective epistles.
It was broken at length by an exclamation from Ella, which arrested her
brother's attention, and looking up from the opened sheet he held in his
hand, he ejaculated with alarm,--
"For pity's sake, Ella, what is the matter?" for his sister's cheek had
become colorless as marble, and sinking into a seat, she burst into a
passion of tears.
Still more alarmed, he laid down the letter, and advancing to her,
implored her to tell him the cause of her agitation.
"Read for yourself," she said, "for I cannot bear to speak of it. Oh,
Agnes, Agnes!"
A fresh mist of tears followed these words.
"Agnes, what of her?" and Arthur's cheek became almost as blanched as
his sister's, and his hand trembled as he grasped the fatal manuscript.
He seemed to forget that the name might belong to some other than Miss
Wiltshire, for among the circle of their acquaintance there were two or
three with a similar designation, but in his inmost thoughts, though he
had never thus addressed her, he had been so accustomed to associate it
with the remembrance of herself, that it had become dear and sacred as a
household word, and when his sister's ejaculation of "Agnes, Agnes," met
his ear, he never dreamed of other, for
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