They waited yet – they lingered yet – they searched the horizon round,
No sight of land, no blessed sail, no living thing was found.
They lingered yet – hope faded fast from out the hearts of all.
They waited yet – till black Despair sunk o'er them like a pall.
They turned to where Mark Edward stood with his unblenching brow,
Or he must die their lives to save, or all must perish now.
They lingered yet – they waited yet – a sudden shriek rung out —
"A sail! A sail! Oh, blessed Lord!" burst forth one joyful shout.
New strength those famished men received; fervent their thanks, but brief —
They man their boat, they reach the ship, they ask a swift relief.
Strange faces meet their view, they hear strange words in tongues unknown,
And evil eyes with threatening gaze are sternly looking down.
They pause – for a new terror bids their hearts' warm current freeze,
For they have met a pirate ship, the scourge of all the seas.
But up and out Mark Edward spake, and in the pirates' tongue,
And when the pirate captain heard, quick to his side he sprung,
And vowed by all the saints of France – the living and the dead —
There should not even a hair be harmed upon a single head,
For once, when in a dismal strait, Mark Edward gave him aid,
And now the debt long treasured up should amply be repaid.
He gave them water from his casks, and bread, and all things store,
And showed them how to lay their course to reach the destined shore.
And the blessing of those famished men went with him evermore.
Again the favoring gale arose, the barque went bounding on,
And speedily her destined port was now in safety won.
And after, when green Trimount's hills greet their expectant eyes,
New thanks to Heaven, new hymns of joy unto the Lord arise.
For glory be unto our Lord, and to His name be praise!
Upon the deep he walketh, in the ocean are his ways.
'Tis meet that we should worship him who doeth right always.
SONG OF SLEEP
Oh the dreamy world of sleep for me,
With its visions pure and bright, —
Its fairy throngs in revelry,
Under the pale moonlight!
Sleep, sleep, I wait for thy spell,
For my eyes are heavy with watching well
For the starry night, and the world of dreams
That ever in sleep on my spirit beams.
The day, the day, I cannot 'bide,
'Tis dull and dusty and drear —
And, owl-like, away from the sun I hide,
That in dreams I may wander freer.
Sleep, sleep, come to my eyes —
Welcome as blue to the midnight skies —
Faithful as dew to drooping flowers —
I only live in thy dreamy bowers.
The sun is purpling down the west,
Day's death-robes glitter fair,
And weary men, agasp for rest,
For the solemn night prepare.
Sleep, sleep, hasten to me!
The shadows lengthen across the lea;
The birds are weary, and so am I;
Tired world and dying day good-bye!
THE CRUISE OF THE RAKER
CHAPTER III
On the deck of the pirate craft stood a young man of powerful frame, and singularly savage features, rendered more repulsive by the disposition of the hair which was allowed to grow almost over the entire mouth, and hung from the chin in heavy masses nearly to the waist. With his elbow resting against the fore-mast of the vessel, he was gazing through a spy-glass upon the brig he had been so long pursuing. A burly negro stood at the helm, holding the tiller, and steering the brig with an ease which denoted his vast strength, scarcely moving his body, but meeting the long waves, which washed over the side of the vessel, and rushed in torrents through the hawse-holes, merely by the power of his arm.
"Keep her more in the wind," shouted the commander, with an oath, to the helmsman.
"Ay, ay sir," responded the negro gruffly.
"Don't let me hear a sail flap again or I'll score your back for you, you son of a sea-cook."
With this pleasant admonition the young man resumed his night-glass.
The captain of the pirate brig was an Englishman by birth; his history was little known even to his own crew, but it was remarkable that though always savage and blood-thirsty, he was peculiarly so to his own countrymen, evincing a hatred and malignancy toward every thing connected with his native land, that seemed more than fiendish – never smiling but when his sword was red with the blood of his countrymen, and his foot planted upon her conquered banner. It was evident that some deep wrong had driven him forth to become an outcast and a fiend. A close inspection of his features developed the outlines of a noble countenance yet remaining, though marred and deformed by years of passion and of crime. His crew, which numbered nearly fifty, were gathered from almost every nation of the civilized world, yet were all completely under his command. They were now scattered over the vessel in various lounging attitudes, apparently careless of every thing beyond the ease of the passing moment, leaving the management of the brig to the two or three hands necessary to control the graceful and obedient craft.
For long hours the captain of the pirate brig stood following the motions of the flying merchantman; he thought not of sleep or of refreshment, it was enough for him that he was in pursuit of an English vessel, that his revenge was again to be gratified with English blood.
He was roused by a light touch of the arm – he turned impatiently.
"Why, Florette."
A beautiful girl stood beside him, gazing into his face half with fear and half with love. Her dress was partly that of a girl and partly of a boy; over a pair of white loose sailor's trowsers a short gown was thrown, fastened with a blue zone, and her long hair fell in thick, luxuriant masses from beneath a gracefully shaped little straw hat – altogether she was as lovely in feature and form as Venus herself, with an eye blue as the ocean, and a voice soft and sweet as the southern breeze.
"Dear William, will you not go below and take some rest?"
"I want none, girl; I shall not sleep till every man on yonder vessel has gone to rest in the caves of ocean."
"But you will eat?"
"Pshaw! Florette, leave me; your place is below."
The girl said no more, but slowly glided to the companion-way and disappeared into the little cabin.
The long night at length wore away, and as the clear light of morning shone upon the waters the merchant vessel was no longer visible from the deck of the pirate.
"A thousand devils! has he escaped me. Ho! the one of you with the sharpest eyes up to the