With respect to those ships, our readers already know two things, of
which Wardlaw himself, _nota bene,_ had no idea; namely, that the
_Shannon_ had sailed last, instead of first, and that Miss Rolleston was
not on board of her, but in the _Proserpine,_ two thousand miles ahead.

To that, your superior knowledge, we, posters of the sea and land, are
about to make a large addition, and relate things strange, but true.
While that anxious and plotting merchant strains his eyes seaward, trying
hard to read the future, we carry you, in a moment of time, across the
Pacific, and board the leading vessel, the good ship _Proserpine,_
homeward bound.

The ship left Sydney with a fair wind, but soon encountered adverse
weather, and made slow progress, being close hauled, which was her worst
point of sailing. She pitched a good deal, and that had a very ill effect
on Miss Rolleston. She was not seasick, but thoroughly out of sorts. And,
in one week, became perceptibly paler and thinner than when she started.

The young clergyman, Mr. Hazel, watched her with respectful anxiety, and
this did not escape her feminine observation. She noted quietly that
those dark eyes of his followed her with a mournful tenderness, but
withdrew their gaze when she looked at him. Clearly, he was interested in
her, but had no desire to intrude upon her attention. He would bring up
the squabs for her, and some of his own wraps, when she stayed on deck,
and was prompt with his arm when the vessel lurched; and showed her those
other little attentions which are called for on board ship, but without a
word. Yet, when she thanked him in the simplest and shortest way, his
great eyes flashed with pleasure, and the color mounted to his very
temples.