The schooner Evening Star lay at anchor in a little rock-bound inlet, on the northern side of the island previously referred to. A boat had just put off from her, containing Captain Guy Campbell, Mr. Willard Drummond, Sibyl Campbell, and the sick passenger, Richard Grove. He lay on a sort of mattress, half supported by Captain Campbell; and in the pale, cold moonlight, looked wan and emaciated to a fearful degree. The features, sharply defined, were like those of a skeleton, and, in their ghastly rigidity, seemed like those of a corpse. But life, intensely burning life, shone in the wild, troubled eyes. Willard Drummond and Sibyl sat talking together, in low tones, at the other end of the boat, fearful of disturbing the dying man.
As the boat touched the shore, Drummond leaped out, and extended his hand to Sibyl; but the wild sea-nymph, declining the needless aid, sprang lightly out, and stood beside him.
The figure of a woman, who had been standing on a rock, watching their approach, now came forward, exclaiming delightedly:
"Laws-a-massy, Miss Sibyl! Who ever s'posed we'd see you here again? Where hev you been to this long time?"
"My dear Mrs. Tom!" said Sibyl, smilingly, holding out her hand; "I am delighted to see you. Where I have been is a troublesome question to answer, seeing I have been almost everywhere you could mention."
"Laws, now! hev you? 'Spect you had nice times sailin' round, though it does seem odd how you could stand all the sea-sickness you must have come through. 'Tain' every young critter would do it. But then you allus was different from most young folks. Jemimi! how you've growed, an' how handsome you've got! Jest as pooty as a picter! An' that, I s'pose, is young Master Guy!" continued the loquacious new-comer, eagerly, as the young captain leaped lightly ashore.
Sibyl nodded, and blushed slightly, as she encountered the gaze of Drummond, who stood watching Mrs. Tom, with a half-smile of amusement on his fine face.
"Master Guy!" said the officious Mrs. Tom, bustling forward; "you hain't forgotten your old aunty, I hope? My gracious! you've got as tall as a hop-pole! Growed out of my knowledge altogether!"
"Why, Mrs. Tom, is it possible?" exclaimed Captain Guy, catching her hand in his hearty grasp. "Looking as young and smart as ever, too, and as fresh and breezy as a May morning! 'Pon my word, I'm delighted to see you looking so well! How is pretty Christie and Master Carl?"
"Oh, Christie is well enough, and pootier than ever; and, what's more, she's as good as she's handsome. But Carl—oh, Master Guy! that there young limb'll break my heart yet! I hain't the slightest doubt of it. Of all the thrif'less, good-for-nothing lazy-bones—"