She had just taken a pilot fifty miles from Sandy Hook, and was bound to
New York, for the captain's beautiful estate, Bonnydale, was located on
the Hudson.

As usual, the pilot had brought on board with him the latest New-York
papers, and one of them contained the startling news which appeared to
have thrown the owner of the Bellevite entirely off his balance; and it
was quite astounding enough to produce this effect upon any American.

"What is it, sir?" demanded Christopher Passford, his son, a remarkably
bright-looking young fellow of sixteen, as he followed his father across
the deck.

"What is it, Horatio?" inquired Mrs. Passford, who had been seated with
a book on the deck, as she also followed her husband.

The captain was usually very cool and self-possessed, and neither the
wife nor the son had ever before seen him so shaken by agitation. He
seemed to be unable to speak a word for the time, and took no notice
whatever of his wife and son when they addressed him.

For several minutes he continued to rush back and forth across the deck
of the steamer, like a vessel which had suddenly caught a heavy flaw of
wind, and had not yet come to her bearings.

"What is the matter, Horatio?" asked Mrs. Passford, when he came near
her. "What in the world has happened to overcome you in this manner, for
I never saw you so moved before?"

But her husband did not reply even to this earnest interrogatory, but