"I don't wonder," said Catherine, "that the Persians, and many other Eastern nations, worship the sun—contributing, as he does, so much to our comfort and happiness; in so doing, they are thankful for the blessings conferred, and only mistake the secondary, for the first cause of their enjoyment."
They continued thus talking to each other for some time, while Tom Jones was devouring every word which was uttered. After enjoying the coolness of the morning breeze, they again descended to the cabin, where they continued till breakfast-time, when they were joined by the old captain and his son Tom. The old tar was full of spirits—told them some of his best yarns—and, by his kindness, endeavoured to make his guests as comfortable as possible. Tom was engaged in the same labour of love; and, by several little acts of attention to the old gentleman, he gained what, to him, was the sweetest reward on earth—an approving smile from Catherine.
"Are we your only passengers?" asked Mr Keveley.
"Yes," replied Tom. "People now-a-days prefer going by land, to running the risk of being taken by the French privateers, which swarm along the coast."
"I hope there is no danger of being attacked?" asked Catherine, turning pale with alarm.
"Why, as to that," replied old Bill, "one can't say for sartin—I have seed such sights as that before now; but never fear, my bonny Miss—if they were to attack three smacks armed as we are, they might mayhap catch a Tar-tar—that's all."
"I am not afraid for myself," said Catherine, casting an affectionate look at her father—"but my father"——
"Is now under that protecting Power which has preserved his life in the midst of so many perils by land."
When they again ascended to the deck, the vessels were going with a fine breeze, which was taking them quickly down the river. After passing the Nore, they stood out to the open sea; and, the wind continuing fair, they proceeded speedily on their voyage, which promised to be pleasant and expeditious. On the second morning after sailing, the Tweed was passing Yarmouth Roads. In the roadstead was lying a large vessel, whose taunt, raking masts, and square, lightly-rigged yards, proved her to be a man-of-war. The seamen of the Tweed were pointing out to each other the various fair properties of the vessel as they passed; and Tom, thinking that Miss Keveley would be pleased with the sight, went below, to ask her if she wished to see a man-of-war.
Catherine thanked him for his attention, and followed him upon deck.