"Whereabouts are you going among them?" said he looking at her. "If I get driven out of my reckoning ever and find myself in those latitudes, I'd like to know which way to steer. Where's your place?"
He was not uncivil; but he liked to see, when he could manage to bring it, that beautiful tinge of rose in Eleanor's cheeks which answered such an appeal as this.
CHAPTER XV.
IN PORT.
"And the magic charm of foreign lands,
With shadows of palm, and shining sands,
Where the tumbling surf
O'er the coral reefs of Madagascar,
Washes the feet of the swarthy 'Lascar.'—"
It was but the next day, and Eleanor was sitting as usual on deck looking over the waters in a lovely bright morning, when a sound was heard which almost stopped her heart's beating for a moment. It was the cry, rung out from the mast-head, "Land, ho!"
"Where is it?" she said to the captain, who was behind her. "I do not see it anywhere."
"You will see it in a little while. Wait a bit. If you could go aloft I could shew it you now."
"What land? do you know?"
"Australia—the finest land the sun shines upon!"