It now became necessary that we should retire to dress; and by the time I returned, the company had begun to assemble; but De Walden was nowhere to be seen--he had returned to his ship, it appeared; and although poor Sophie did the honours during the early part of the evening with her usual elegance, yet her customary sprightliness was altogether gone, and it was evident how much it cost her to control her feelings. About midnight, however--worn out, heart-crushed, and dejected, she could no longer sustain this assumed unconcern, and retired on the plea of a headach. But the rest of us, hard-hearted animals as we were, having got into the spirit of the thing, at the expense of some mental exertion, and not a little champagne, contrived to forget poor Sophie and De Walden for a time, and so carried on until daydawn. "What is that?" said I to William Hudson. "A gun from Gazelle, on weighing, I guess," said he. "Ah," I rejoined--"I did not know she was to sail before Sunday." "It stood for Sunday, I believe--at least so De Walden told me, until yesterday afternoon, when all the merchantmen having reported ready for sea, the commodore determined to be off." "The sound of that cannon," said Helen Hudson to me, with an agitated voice, as we sat together, "will be like a knell to one we know of, Benjamin." A short time after this the party broke up, and we retired to rest. With me it was short and troubled, and I awoke little refreshed about noon--the hour we had previously arranged for breakfast. I was to sail the following morning, and Mrs Hudson, with matronly kindness and consideration, left her daughter and me very much alone and together that forenoon and evening. After I had made my little preparations for embarking, laid in my sea-stock, and arranged for my passage in the British brig the Ballahoo, I returned in the evening just as the night was closing in. I found Helen sitting alone in the boudoir, and I could not but perceive that she had been weeping. "How now, dearest," said I, as gaily as the weight at my own heart would let me--"How now, Helen--why so sad--you know we have all along been aware that we must part, but I trust only temporarily. Come, now, you have had your wish gratified, by Sir Oliver leaving Dicky Phantom with you, until his friends in England have been consulted--and take care, Helen--I shall grow jealous of the small rogue, if you don't mind. So, come now, Helen, don't be foolish--We shall soon have a happy meeting, if it pleases heaven, and"---- "I hope so--I trust so, Benjamin--but in such a climate who can promise themselves a happy or a certain meeting? Have we not ourselves met friends in the morning, who never saw the sun rise again? Oh, Benjamin, my heart is fond and foolish." "Well, well, Helen, but cheer up, my sweet girl--our prospects are fair compared to poor De Walden's."