‘I have daily forebodings that poor Fanny will never see her home again,’ said her mother to her consort one evening when both sat quietly with the bible open before them, and from whence they had as usual been reading aloud,’ previous to retiring to rest for the night. ‘Let us trust in Heaven, wife, it’s a holy cause she is engaged in, but I too have my fears for her safety.’ ‘Poor child, she did not even tell us how she was to make the voyage,’ said the mother,--‘unprotected though of course.’ ‘Well wife, I would trust Fanny where I wouldn’t like to an elder and more experienced head. She’s a strange girl, and beside her book knowledge, has a good idea of common things. I have great faith in her judgment, or I should never have consented for her to leave us, although she was so urgent and determined about the matter.’ ‘Heaven protect her!’ ejaculated the mother, with uplifted eyes. ‘Amen,’ added the father fervently. ‘It would be a romantic story if she should succeed,’ said the mother, her countenance brightening up with fresh hope, not that there was the least reason in it save, her own thoughts. ‘Ay, as good a plot as the Bay Province ever furnished for a novel, even in the old Indian times,’ said the father. ‘It is two months since she left us,’ said the mother. ‘Yes, and before the expiration of another week, we may possibly hope to hear from her at least.’ ‘She set the time for her return at three months, I remember.’ ‘Which will be a short time after all,’ continued the father, ‘even had she a vessel solely at her command. But you see, she must pass some time on the island at any rate, and then whether she proves successful or otherwise, she must wait for some vessel bound to Boston from that port. ‘There are many chances against her,’ sighed the old man seriously, as he raked the coals together on the hearth. ‘Oh! it was a wild undertaking,’ said Fanny’s mother, as much dejected now as she was a few moments before elated, and for just as good a reason as before stated and no other. ‘That remains to be seen, wife.’ ‘You say this to comfort me who feel so timid--that’s all, Henry.’ ‘I don’t know,’ said the husband seriously and partly to himself, ‘but I still have great faith in Fanny.’ ‘Heaven grant it true faith.’ ‘Amen,’ again said the father. And after the usual prayer to the throne of grace, in which Fanny’s name was often and fervently mentioned, the good old couple retired to their humble cot to rest after their day’s labor, and were soon wrapped in the quiet and refreshing sleep that industry and frugality ensure to the humble. CHAPTER VIII. _HIGH HOCK. MOLL PITCHER THE FORTUNE-TELLER. ARRIVAL OF THE PRIZES. FANNY AND THE CAPTAIN OF THE DOLPHIN. A DECLARATION. AN INSULT. THE DEFENCE. THE FORTUNATE ESCAPE. ARRIVAL AT HOME. MEETING OF FRIENDS._