Arabella herself tried to seem indifferent to their danger, and secure in Lionel's care; she hid her tears, lest they might grieve her husband; but when she thought that no one saw her, she gave herself up to sorrow and despair. She thought of her father and mother whom she had left secretly, lest they should forbid her marriage with Lionel, and she longed with an aching heart for one word of love and forgiveness. For hours she would sit, her eyes turned toward that part of the horizon where she had last seen the coast of England, her thoughts busied about her old home: her father, taking his pleasures with a sad heart; her little sister, weeping for her lost playmate; and, most of all, her mother, upright and dry-eyed, after the stern fashion of the day, but yet, as Arabella well knew, ever thinking of her absent and disobedient child, ever missing the light step, the loving smile, the tender touch of the daughter she had loved so well. But Lionel still kept up heart and hope, still spoke gaily of the new home they would soon make in sunny France--yes, even when day after day passed by, and the watchers saw no land, and knew that they must be drifting far out of their course, away into the wide unknown ocean. They had been at sea more than a month when one morning early, Lionel, who was pacing the deck, heard behind him a sudden shout of joy. He did not turn, for there were tears in his eyes which he must hide from his companions, for he had now, for the first time, learned from his wife of her repentance and her grief, and he too was sad at heart and well-nigh hopeless. But the shout was repeated and taken up by other voices. "Land, land at last!" they cried, and Lionel turned to see, far in the distance, the tall sharp outline either of a rock or of the cliffs which guarded some unknown shore. Wind and wave were steadily sweeping the vessel onward towards this haven of refuge, and there was nothing to do but to watch the sharpening outlines, and to see, as fog and mist cleared before the sun, the sheer dark rocks and deep valleys of their new home. Nearer still and nearer, till the land was full in sight, and the famished and wearied crew could see the green valleys and tree-covered heights of this lovely island, could almost hear the fall of the clear waters which they saw glancing down the face of the rocks. What land it was they knew not. No houses were to be seen, no ships or canoes flew out from under the shelter of the shore, no natives gathered in fear or wonder on the silent silver beach, only a number of bright-winged birds came as if to greet the new-comers, and settled fearless on the sails and ropes.