Picturesque the scene: gentlemen wearing white wigs, blue, crimson, and scarlet cloaks, carrying gold-headed canes, taking pinches of snuff from silver-mounted boxes; young gentlemen with handsome figures and manly faces; ladies with tippets and muffs; girls in hoods,--all congratulating Berinthia, admiring the beauty and tidiness of the ship, and the lovely figure of herself. All praised Abraham Duncan, who blushed like a schoolboy. They could hear the clattering of mallets and axes beneath them, and knew the carpenters were knocking away the props. The ways had been slushed with grease. The tide was at the flood. Ruth Newville was to break the bottle of wine. She had shaken hands with Robert Walden, and given expression of her pleasure at meeting him once more. Her eyes had followed him; even when not looking towards him she had seen him. Once more she thanked Rachel for her gift. Her mates were asking her where she had found a hood so beautiful and becoming. They stood upon the quarter-deck, Berinthia the queen of the hour, Ruth, radiant and lovely, by her side. They heard the bell striking the hour of eleven. A great crowd had assembled to see the launching. Men, women, boys, and girls were in the yard, flocking the street, gazing from doors and windows of neighboring houses. "Are you ready there?" [Illustration: Launching the Ship.] It was the builder of the ship, Mr. Brandon, shouting over the taffrail to those beneath. "Aye, aye, sir." "Then knock it away." They heard a blow from an axe. The stately ship quivered a moment, then glided with increasing speed down the ways. Mr. Brandon raised his hand, and a ball of bunting at the topmast fluttered out into the Cross of St. George. Ruth lifted the bottle of wine, broke it upon the rail, and poured the contents into the river. A huzza rose from the quarter-deck. Handkerchiefs fluttered in the air. The people tossed up their hats. From street, doorway, and window came an answering shout. Out from the shore drifted the Berinthia till the anchor dropped from her bow, and she lay a thing of beauty, swinging with the ebbing tide. In the cabin the guests were partaking of the bountiful and appetizing repast. "I remember, Miss Newville, that you once graciously served me at an afternoon tea; shall I have the pleasure of waiting upon you?" Robert asked. "I shall be pleased to be served by you. The fresh air has sharpened my appetite, and I will begin with a plate of beans, if you please." He brought what she desired, served himself, and took a chair by her side. They talked of the successful launching, of the beauty of the ship, sitting as gracefully as a swan upon the water, of the almost perfect likeness of the figurehead to Berinthia. "Possibly it is so beautiful because the engraver's heart has gone into it," she said with a smile. Their eyes met. He thought hers very beautiful at the moment.