The latter was the receptacle of most of its successors, and of Clara's too.
CHAPTER V.
"DEEPER THAN E'EN PLUMMET SOUNDED."
Derval was back to his old work on the sea, but now it had lost all zest, and even the love for and hope of adventure had gone out of him. His whole soul and existence seemed to centre in the image of Clara, and his mind was never weary of dwelling upon it, and all the minutiæ of his late sojourn at Finglecombe, and all that had come of it.
She loved him; he had the dearest and sweetest assurance of that, and they were engaged—solemnly engaged; but how, and when was the end to be? Their future was painfully vague! He could scarcely hope for her father's consent, and without it he feared that he would never win Clara for his wife, as he knew, but too well, that though the name and blood were the same, their relative positions in life—in that "society" in which she moved—were different, far apart, and that—as yet—he had no place therein.
His imagination was fertile in the art of self-torment; and still more did it become so, as time and distance increased between him and their parting hour and parting place; and, after skirting the Bay of Biscay, that turbulent corner of the seas where, at times, all their storms seem gathered together, the Amethyst shaped her course towards Madeira.
On the lone sea by day and in the silent watches of the starry night of what could he think but her, and the new and hitherto unknown emotion she had kindled in his heart!
He hailed with joy and anxiety the Pico Ruivo as it rose from the sea, and the Amethyst ran into the roads of Funchal, where she lay-to while Joe Grummet went ashore for any ship letters that might have come ahead of them by the steam-packet.
Letters there were for the Captain, Harry Bowline, and others on board, but not one for him, and his spirit began to fall. He strove hard to console himself with the doctrine of chances and mischance, and hoped letters might await him at Ascension or the Cape of Good Hope.
Rough old Joe Grummet, a shrewd observer, especially of those for whom he had a regard, saw how his countenance changed when the letters were distributed and none appeared for him.