itself became visible, and other persons began to assemble and guess
what steamer it could be and how long it would be before they passed
each other. Meanwhile the stranger came nearer and nearer; at last it
could be recognized--the 'Atalanta,' from New York to Havre. Maurice
borrowed a glass from one of the officers, and, going a little apart
from the group on the deck of the 'India,' set himself to examine that
of the 'Atalanta.' A sudden feeling of dismay had seized upon him. He
had no more reason to suppose that Lucia was on board this steamer than
he had to believe that she had sailed a week ago, or that she was still
at Cacouna, and yet a horrible certainty took possession of him that, if
he could only get on board that ship, so tantalizingly close at hand and
yet so utterly inaccessible, he should find her there. He strained his
eyes in the vain effort to distinguish her figure. He almost stamped
with disappointment when he found that the distance was too great, or
his glass not sufficiently powerful, for the forms he could just see, to
be recognizable; and as the two steamers passed on, and the distance
between them grew every moment greater, he hurried down to his cabin,
not caring that any one should see how disturbed he was. He threw
himself upon his little sofa, thinking.

"I wonder if she suspected I was so near her. I wonder whether she
looked for me as I looked for her. Not _as_ I did, of course, for she is
everything to me, and I am only an old friend to her; but yet I think
she would have been sorry to miss me by so little.

"What an idiot I am! when I have not even the smallest notion whether
she could be on board or not. Very likely I shall find them still at the
dear old Cottage."

But after his soliloquy he shook his head in a disconsolate manner, and