"If you wish to go to Wut-a-qut-o, Miss Elizabeth," he said, "my friend Mrs. Nettley will go with you and stay with you, till you have made other arrangements. I can answer for her kindness of heart, and unobtrusive manners, and good sense. Would you like her for a companion?" "I would like anybody -- that you can recommend." "My friend Cowslip's little sloop sets sail for the neighbourhood of Wut-a-qut-o this evening." "Oh thank you! --Will she take us?" "If you wish it." "Oh thank you! --" "Would you not be better to wait till to-morrow? -- I can make the sloop wait." "Oh no, let us go," said Elizabeth rising. "But your friend is very good -- your friend who is going with me, I mean." "Mrs. Nettley. But you need not move yet -- rest while you can." "Rest!" -- said Elizabeth. And tears said what words did not. "There is only one rest," said Winthrop gravely; "and it is in Christ's hand. 'Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, AND I WILL GIVE YOU REST.'" -- Elizabeth's sobs were bitter. Her counsellor added no more however; he left the room after a little while, and soon returned to tell her that all was ready. She was ready too by that time. "But Mr. Winthrop," she said looking at him earnestly, "is everything here so that you can leave it?" She dared not put the whole of her meaning into words. But Winthrop understood, and answered a quiet "yes;" and Elizabeth lowered her veil and her head together and let him lead her to the carriage. A few minutes brought them to the pier at the end of which the Julia Ann lay. "You're sharp upon the time, Mr. Landholm," said her master; -- "we're just goin' to cast off. But we shouldn't have done it, nother, till you come. All right!" "Is all right in the cabin?" said Winthrop as they came on board. "Well, it's slicked up all it could be on such short notice," said the skipper. "I guess you wont have to live in it long; the wind's coming up pretty smart ahind us. Haul away there! -- " It was past six o'clock, and the August sun had much lessened of its heat, when, as once before with Mr. Landholm for a passenger, the Julia Ann stood out into the middle of the river with her head set for the North. Mrs. Nettley and Clam hid themselves straightway in the precincts of the cabin. Elizabeth stood still where she had first placed herself on the deck, in a cold abstracted sort of carelessness, conscious only that her protector was standing by her side, and that she was not willing to lose sight of him. The vessel, and her crew, and their work before her very eyes, she could hardly be said to see. The sloop got clear of the wharf and edged out into the mid-channel, where she stood bravely along before the fair wind. Slowly the trees and houses along shore were dropped behind, and fresher the wind and fairer the green river-side seemed to become. Elizabeth's senses hardly knew it, or only in a kind of underhand way; not recognized.