It was a golden morning—grand, exultant, inspiring! Out before them rolled the boundless, the magnificent sea, with its myriads beyond myriads of waves, leaping, flashing, sparkling, scintillating like fluid emeralds in the dazzling splendor of the morning sun.
As he looked upon this scene Hugh’s eyes kindled, blazed. He did not see how sad was the brow of his young bride. No! the sea-king had already risen above the lover.
At last the island lay before them like a line of gold. He rowed swiftly for it. Soon they landed on the glittering strand. It was here they parted.
“And—be kind to my little Agnes!” he whispered, as he took leave of the old lady.
“Now, Agnes,” he said, as he folded her to his bosom and pressed his first and farewell kiss upon her lips.
Then he sprang into the boat and struck out to sea in the direction of his vessel, riding at anchor at about a half league’s distance, and which was to sail with the tide.
“Come, Agnes,” said Miss Joe, kindly taking her arm to draw it within her own.
“Not yet—not just yet! And, if you please, just let me watch until the boat gets out of sight.”
“Honey, it will put your eyes out to try to look upon this sparkling sea. Come; breakfast is waiting for us, I know.”
“I wish he had only stayed to breakfast with us! I could have parted with him better then, if I had known he had eaten a good, warm breakfast.”