NEW NOVELS. THE DUCHESS OF POWYSLAND. By GRANT ALLEN. 3 vols. CORINTHIA MARAZION. By CECIL GRIFFITH. 3 vols. A SONG OF SIXPENCE. By HENRY MURRAY. 1 vol. SANTA BARBARA, &c. By OUIDA. 1 vol. IN THE MIDST OF LIFE. By AMBROSE BIERCE. 1 vol. TRACKED TO DOOM. By DICK DONOVAN. 1 vol. COLONEL STARBOTTLE’S CLIENT, AND SOME OTHER PEOPLE. By BRET HARTE. 1 vol. ADVENTURES OF A FAIR REBEL. By MATT. CRIM. 1 vol. IN A STEAMER CHAIR. By ROBERT BARR. 1 vol. THE FOSSICKER: a Romance of Mashonaland. By ERNEST GLANVILLE. 1 vol. London: CHATTO & WINDUS, 214 Piccadilly, W. ALONE ON A WIDE WIDE SEA VOL. II. PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE LONDON ALONE ON A WIDE WIDE SEA BY W. CLARK RUSSELL AUTHOR OF ‘MY SHIPMATE LOUISE’ ‘THE ROMANCE OF JENNY HARLOWE’ ETC. [Illustration] IN THREE VOLUMES VOL. II. London CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY 1892 CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME CHAPTER PAGE IX. THE CRY OF A CHILD 1 X. ALICE LEE 31 XI. I AM SUPPLIED WITH CLOTHES 70 XII. ‘AGNES’ 101 XIII. THE SHIP IS MY HOME 137 XIV. AM I A CALTHORPE? 171 XV. THE GIPSY 203 XVI. MY FORTUNE 235 XVII. MY DYING FRIEND 270 ALONE ON A WIDE WIDE SEA CHAPTER IX THE CRY OF A CHILD It was cold, but the sweep of the dry night-wind was refreshing and inspiriting to me, who had been confined to my cabin all day. A bull’s eye lamp burnt under the overhanging ledge of the poop-deck. Beneath it was the clock, and the small hand was close upon one. The gleams of the lamp touched no living figure, and so lonely looked the ship that I could have easily supposed myself the only human being on board of her. The great fabric was leaning over under a vast cloud of canvas, and a sound of stealthy hissing, such as the stem of a vessel makes when she is swiftly tearing over a quiet surface of ocean, rose into the wind on either hand. A ladder was close beside me, conducting on to the poop, or upper deck. I mounted it, and stood at the head of the steps looking around me. I saw but two figures. One of them was on the other side of the deck. He was motionless, with his arm round a rope, and his shape stood out against the sparkling stars as sharply as though he were a statue in ebony. The other figure was at the aftermost end, at the wheel. There was a deep shadow of rigging and of sail where I had come to a pause. The dusky hue of the cloak I wore blended with the obscurity, and I was not observed by the figure opposite.