That night, as she lay sleeping in her daintily-furnished apartment,
into which the soft night-air was admitted through sweet geranium and
mignonette, which bloomed and shed their perfume with rare sweetness,
she dreamed of her native land, of him who had that day left her so
disappointed, of her childhood, and all its happy memories, and of much
that we will not refer to lest we anticipate our story.





CHAPTER VI.

THE WRECK.




ABOUT a fortnight subsequent to the period of the last chapter, Mrs.
Huntington and her daughter, with a single attendant found themselves
embarked on board the Bengal, a large, well-found Indiaman, bound for
Liverpool. The ship belonged to the East India Company, was a good
carrier, but calculated more for freight than speed. She was a new ship
and strong as iron and wood could be put together, and the widow and her
child found their quarters on board of an exceedingly comfortable
nature. They were the only passengers on board, but the vessel had a
heavy freight list, and as she moved out from her anchorage to lay her
course to sea, her draft of water was very deep.

The Bengal fortunately encountered none but the most favorable winds and