A burst of tears closed the sentence; she could no longer restrain her feelings.
"We must leave you now, my dear child," said Mr. Cameron, after promising compliance with her request. "May heaven bless and help you."
"And may He who holds the winds and the waves in the hollow of his hand, preserve you, and all, through the hours of this terrible night," was the solemn ejaculation of Mr. Dunseer, as pressing for the last time her hand, the final order was given, the boat pushed out from the side of the burning vessel, and she was left in the midst of strangers; strangers personally, yet linked together by the sympathy arising from mutual danger.
CHAPTER VII.
"Letters from home at last," said Arthur Bernard, as he entered the private salon of an hotel, located in a pretty town in the south of France.
"I had begun to think our friends had quite forgotten us," he continued, addressing his sister, who, seated in a recess formed by a large bow-window, had been anxiously watching for his return.
"You have not opened any of them yet," she said, as she came eagerly forward to receive her share.
"No;" was the reply. "I knew how anxiously you were waiting, and hastened that we might read them together."
"Always thoughtful, dear brother, of my comfort, you quite spoil me," said Ella, with an affectionate smile, but in a tone, whose subdued sound, proved a striking contrast to her former vivacity.