As usual, Lucilla woke at an early hour. Evidently the vessel was still stationary, and anxious to see it start she rose and made her toilet very quietly, lest she should disturb her still sleeping husband, then left the room and stole noiselessly through the saloon up to the deck, where she found her father overseeing the lifting of the anchor.
"Ah, good-morning, daughter," he said, with a smile, as she reached his side. "You are an early bird as usual," ending his sentence with a clasp of his arm about her waist and a kiss upon her lips.
"Yes, papa," she laughed, "who wouldn't be an early bird to get such a token of love from such a father as mine?"
"And what father wouldn't be ready and glad to bestow it upon such a daughter as mine?" he responded, repeating his loving caress. "You have enjoyed your trip thus far, daughter, have you not?"
"Yes, indeed, papa. We are bound for Porto Rico now, are we not?"
"Yes, I think that will be our first stopping place; though perhaps we may not land at all, but merely sail round it, viewing it from the sea."
"And perhaps you may treat Cuba in the same way?"
"Very possibly. I shall act in regard to both as the majority of my passengers may wish."
The anchor was now up, and the vessel gliding through the water. The Captain and Lucilla paced the deck to and fro, taking a farewell look at the receding islands and talking of the pleasure they had found in visiting them, particularly in exploring the many creeks and bays, with their clear waters so full of beautiful shells and fish, so different from those to be found in their land.
"I shall always look back with pleasure upon this visit to Bermuda, father," Lucilla said, with a grateful smile up into his eyes.