She was turning a dress for Judith, and she pinned the end of it to her apron while running up a long seam. Every time she found it necessary to change the place of the pin, she raised her head and looked out at the ocean. How monotonous and solitary looked that ocean! No change ever came over it except the change from storm to calm or from day to night, and _vice versa_. No living thing ever appeared on it or above it except the plunging fish and the sailing water fowl. But she loved it; and she watched its gradual subsidence from passion to peace as she would have watched the falling to sleep of some sufferer who was dear to her. All the long forenoon she sat sewing and watching the ocean. Towards noon it had become wonderfully calm, considering the recent storm. Once, on changing the place of the pin that held her work, she looked up and gazed far out to sea—far out to where the western horizon touched the water. She held her breath—she strained her eyes—and then with a cry she started up, threw down her work, ran into the parlor, caught up the pocket telescope, rushed back to the window, kneeled down, drew out the cylinders, rested it upon the window sill, trained it toward the western horizon, and put her eye to the glass. “Yes, it was a ship!—a ship of war; for she could see the guns—a ship of the Union, for she could see the Stars and Stripes! And it was standing in directly for the island!” With a great cry of joy she dropped her head upon her hands and thanked God. Then she sprang up and ran out of the house to look for Justin. She ran up and down, and all about, calling him at the top of her voice—calling him as if she had lost her senses!—calling him until he heard her from his distant post of labor; and came rushing in great alarm to meet her. “What is it, Britomarte? Compose yourself, dear sister! I am here at your side! You are safe. But what has happened? Has that man——” “It is a ship!—it is a national ship!—bearing our own Stars and Stripes! And she is steering for our own Cove! Oh, Justin!” And Britomarte threw herself upon her brother’s breast and burst into tears of rapture. Justin pressed her to his heart again and again. Not even the arrival of the long-desired, long-prayed-for ship could make him release her until Judith came flying toward them to know if her young lady had gone mad or what had gone wrong. “It is a ship, Judith! Oh, Judith, it is a ship! And it bears our Stars and Stripes!” said Britomarte, raising her head from Justin’s breast, and releasing herself from his embrace. “Praised be to all the saints!” piously ejaculated Judith. “Praise be to the merciful lord of heaven and earth!” said Britomarte, reverently. Justin lifted his hat and said “Amen.” And then all three hurried down to the beach by the cove to look for the ship.