The beautiful landscape which had so often cheered and gladdened her heart, during her brief sojourn, no longer smiled upon her, but was obscured in storm and gloom. The thunder which had only muttered at a distance, now roared among the cloud-capped hills, and heavy drops of rain began to patter slowly upon the earth and sea. These bright globules in advance of the heavy shower whose approach they announced, made small dimples in the waters, spreading anon into large circles, until the surface of the salt brine seemed to boil and dance, which a few minutes before had lain so glassy and still, beneath the hot breath of the coming storm. Flora thought how soon those billows would chafe and roar for ever between her and her native land. Then the lines of Nature’s own bard, the unhappy but immortal Burns, whose fame had become as eternal as those ancient hills, rose to her mind, and she could fancy him standing upon that very spot, breathing out from the depths of his great inspired heart, the painful separation he anticipated, when called by adverse circumstances to leave old Scotia’s shores, and the woman he adored— “The boat rocks at the pier o’ Leith, The ship rides at the Berwick Law, And I maun leave my bonnie Mary.” The words still hovered on her lips when the boat touched the pier, and her husband threw his arms around her, and lifted her and the dear offspring of their mutual love, into the small bark which was to bear them away from the glorious land of Bruce and Burns. The men bent to their oars, and in a few minutes she found herself one among the many strangers that crowded the narrow deck of the emigrant ship. The downpouring of the thunder-shower compelled her to take instant refuge in the cabin, followed by Hannah and the child. The little dingy place dignified by that name, was crowded with trunks and packages, piled upon each other in endless confusion. And the close atmosphere was rendered more hot and suffocating from the mingled odours of brandy, onions, red-herrings, and tobacco. The smoke from several pipes floated in lazy wreaths through the confined space, and effectually concealed, for the first few minutes, the parties indulging in the dreamy luxury of the fragrant weed. The gloom occasioned by the passing thunder-clouds produced a dim twilight in the little room, which looked more like the den in a travelling menagerie, appropriated to the use of some imprisoned lord of the desert, than a fitting habitation for civilized men and women. Flora groped her way to the bench which surrounded the walls, and, for a few minutes, covered her face with her hands, to conceal her agitation and keep down the swelling of her heart, before she gained sufficient courage to reconnoitre the aspect of her temporary home. At length, she succeeded in calming her feelings, and was able to look about her.